


Waiting for Salvation

by Rellie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Stranded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rellie/pseuds/Rellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stranded on a desert planet, with no one to rely on but each other, they come to realise one thing. </p><p>They could both die here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my psychic trash-buddy for lyfe, Snowfright!

Rey was brought back to consciousness by the persistent wail of an alarm.

 

_—woo-eeeee-wooooo-eeeee-woooo-eeee—_

 

That was for the acceleration compensator wasn’t it? Had it come loose again, why—

 

She tried to sit up too quickly and the pain hit her all at once, a sharp agonising flare in her shoulders and head, accompanied by a deep persistent throb in her back. The side of her face felt sticky with drying blood.

 

Her eyes opened by degrees, noting the darkness she lay in. Whatever had happened had knocked out enough power that even the emergency lighting hadn’t kicked in. Still, there was just enough that she could see that the viewscreen in front of her was cracked, full of sand, a tiny sliver of sky visible in the upper corner. She could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth and took a moment to spit it onto the control room floor.

 

It all came flooding back to her suddenly—she had lost control of the Falcon in the upper atmosphere, had been forced to make an emergency landing because of—

 

_Kylo Ren._

 

She automatically reached for her lightsaber, finding it still hanging by her side, the cold metal solid and reassuring in her grip. Kylo Ren. The First Order had found her not far from here, cut her off. Only a small contingent of them but she’d been alone, overly confident in her own abilities to make this one quick trip untroubled. The Falcon demanded a co-pilot really but she hadn’t wanted to take Chewie or R2 away from Master Skywalker, aware of how lonely he’d been in his exile. Besides it should have been a simple supply run, there and back in under a day, nothing where she’d need the weapons or any of the advanced systems. And no one should have known she where she was. No one outside of the Rebel Alliance anyway.

 

She’d managed to take out most of the ships by steering through an asteroid belt but somehow _he’d_ managed to evade the rocks, to stick to her until both of them were dropping lower and lower into the atmosphere of this random planet in a game of cat and mouse that had ended badly.  Had ended with her lying here surrounded by wreckage.

 

_I must have broken something, I can’t be that lucky…_

 

Slowly, slowly she eased herself up from the floor, feeling her muscles scream once again in protest. No sharp flare of pain this time though, no grating of bone. Just the continual thud of pain in her head.

 

_Maybe I really am that lucky._

A cloud of smoke erupted into the cockpit, the acrid smell of burning circuits made her choke and cough. Not good, those gases would be poisonous after a while, she would need to vent them as soon as she could.

 

She looked up, groping through the steam for the valve to release them and abruptly realised that poisonous gas might be the least of her worries. The sky was showing through the jagged hole above her, not a minor rent that would be patched up easily but a great irregular tear in the side of the ship. Something that looked almost certainly unfixable.

 

_Well there’s only one way to find out._

 

She touched the lightsaber at her side, for luck or reassurance she wasn’t sure which, then began the laborious climb out.

 

The familiarity of the vista that greeted her was such that for one long, dreadful moment she was convinced she was back on Jakku. Sand stretched out in every direction before her, mountains of it shifting in the wind beneath a flat pale sky. The sunlight looked like it was just starting to fade into the blue hour. The lingering time before dark or just before sunrise when, back on Jakku, there had been the most activity. Cool enough to move around without overheating, not yet cold enough to bite.

 

There was no movement out on the open sands here though, nothing breaking the long stretch of the horizon. Well nothing aside from the First Order ship a few hundred feet to her left.

 

Grunting with effort Rey hauled herself over the side of her craft, sliding down until she hit the sand. The rear of the hull was ripped out entirely, wreckage strewn in its wake, a path of destruction that led back to the horizon.

 

_I destroyed the Falcon._

 

A wave of despair washed over her, making her want to sink to her knees.

 

She’d destroyed the Millennium Falcon. The _legendary_ Millennium Falcon. The last piece of Han Solo left in the world and it was scattered in bits all over this backwater planet. Her eyes were drawn to the spot where the other ship was lying on its side, black standing out starkly against the whiteness of the sand.

 

Well possibly not quite the last piece…

 

His ship had taken less damage than hers that was easy to see. A spark of resentment flared that she, the better pilot by far, should have ended up with her ship a wreck while his seemed only superficially damaged in comparison. Still an easier landing meant nothing, it just took the wrong circuit to rupture and the resultant explosion would take care of Kylo Ren.

 

_Good._

 

The thought was vicious but after all that had happened today she allowed herself it. Master Luke would be thoroughly disappointed. Maybe it would have been easier to have forgiveness if her head hadn’t hurt quite so much.

 

For a long moment she simply stared at the black bulk of the ship, trying to decide on the best course of action. She needed to know if he was alive, needed to know how much of a threat he posed. They were out here alone, no back-up, it would be easy for him to surprise her. And if she stood any chance of getting off this planet at all she would definitely need to pillage his ship for circuitry, and tools.

 

The nose mounted loading ramp was hanging crookedly open, leaving enough gap for her to wriggle her way through, scraping her shoulder on the way in. It stung but she was already so battered, what was another minor injury to add to the list?

 

She crouched just inside, poised to run at the slightest movement, waiting until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Now that she was within it gave her some perverse pleasure to see that his ship was actually in a worse condition than she’d thought from the outside. Even though the outer hull was intact there were nests of wires hanging loose from the ceiling, panels that had slipped from the walls, the whole front console had broken in two.

 

Kylo Ren was hanging from the seat harness, like some kind of grotesque puppet, blood dripping down from his helmet to pool on the floor beneath him. Dread crawled over her skin as she watched him. Alive or dead, it was impossible to know until she’d dealt with the unpleasant matter of his mask. Silently she crept her way over, reaching up with unsteady hands. She felt around, shaking fingertips searching for the release.  Waiting for his hand to shoot out, catch her by the wrist, _something_.

 

A hiss of air and it came loose, the smooth black metal sliding free under her hands. There was blood matted in his dark curls and his breathing was fast, shallow.

 

Unconscious, that was lucky.

 

The scar she’d given him ran red across his face, still livid and ugly looking but beyond that he was unchanged. It irritated her how open he could look, how young. Made her remember how, for a moment when he‘d taken his helmet off on the Destroyer, she had wanted to trust him.

 

Now she was closer she could see that the thick straps holding him up were charred and blackened in places. He’d been trying to cut his way through the harness before he’d succumbed to unconsciousness, lost his grip on his lightsaber. It was hardly a precision tool and in several places he’d sliced right through his clothing by accident, leaving shallow burns on his own skin. He had been desperate.

 

Like an animal trying to gnaw its way out of trap.

 

If she thought about him that way, a bloodied injured animal caught in a trap, maybe she could have empathy. But animals had no malice, animals only lashed out on instinct.

 

Where had the lightsaber fallen?

 

She fumbled around the debris at his feet to no avail, eventually finding it wedged between the pilots seat and the wall. It must have rolled after he dropped it, handle still wet with blood. She picked it up, holding the dark metal gingerly between her fingertips. It wouldn’t do to accidentally trigger it, the cross-guards might take a finger off. Besides touching it felt… _wrong_ somehow _,_ bad. Made her remember the flash of red light as it had stabbed through Han Solo’s chest.

 

Rey thought of the snow then, of running frantically from him. Of the terror that had overwhelmed her even as she raised the lightsaber to fight. Expecting to die, out there in the unfamiliar cold of a planet that wasn’t a planet.  

 

“I hate you,” she whispered “I hate you, you’re vile.”

 

His lightsaber hilt was in her hand, metal cold against her palm, the feel of his blood sticky against her skin. All it would take was a flick of the switch and it would thrum to life.

 

“You deserve to die.”

 

She wasn’t even sure what planet this was, having someone else to look after who was this injured, even if they were an ally, a friend, would’ve been difficult. And if he woke up, recovered, it would only get infinitely worse. Rey pressed the end against his side, finger hovering over the button.

 

But it wasn’t in her to kill him.

 

The hilt clattered from her fingers as she sat back, a twist in her stomach. She wondered if Master Luke would be proud of her restraint or disappointed in her temptation.

 

 

The cold bit into her suddenly and deep as she crawled out of the ship, the sun having set while she had been deciding his fate. Above her in the clear sky, she could see there was a far distant white moon and innumerable bright cold stars. For a long moment she stared up, wondering which one was Ahch-To. It should be near enough to see from here, a pin prick of light amongst all the others.

 

A place she had started to think of as home.

 

A home she’d never see again unless she started thinking practically. The beacon on her ship had been damaged beyond all repair but his craft had one that was functioning, barely, the signal weak and flickering. Undaunted she dragged the remains of both back into the shelter of the downed command shuttle and set about dismantling them. It took quite a lot of jury-rigging but Rey managed to botch them together so that that the signal was strong enough it stood a chance of getting off planet, maybe even out of system if she was lucky. The persistent headache that was throbbing behind her temples didn’t help much, she must have hit her head harder than she thought.

 

Pressing the button to record the message, she spoke clearly, trying to sound as confident as she could “I am requesting the assistance of the Rebel Alliance.”

 

Who knew who would pick up the signal though? It could just as easily be the First Order. Maybe it was even more likely to be, they had more ships, more patrols.

 

At that thought her eyes flickered over to the black unmoving figure of Kylo Ren, wondering what her fate would be in that case.

 

The unsettling thought occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, no one would pick it up at all.

 

They could die here, both of them.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Rey sat with her back to the cold metal wall, hand resting on her lightsaber hilt.

 

At first, when the sandstorm had blown in, she’d tried to shelter in the Falcon. But it was too damaged to offer the cover she needed. There’d been no choice but to crawl back into the stifling, airless black of the command shuttle where she’d left Kylo Ren.

 

It reminded her of her shelter back on Jakku, of cowering inside the broken down AT-AT while the sandstorms raged. She’d cried when she was younger, frightened by the sheer, raw power of them. Later on they’d just been an inconvenience, something that prevented her from scavenging, meant that she would be wracked with hunger for a few days.

 

Her eyes were fixed on the unmoving form opposite her, watching for any indication that he might be waking. She could hear the rasp and draw of his breath, in and out. Steadier now than it had been earlier.

 

She’d cut him down in the end, after a deliberating with herself for a long time.

 

It might have been safer to leave him up there, to give herself some measure of control for when he woke. But she was under no illusion that the flight straps would contain a truly angry Kylo Ren. No, it was better to cut him down. Put him in her debt, since she had decided not to kill him. Especially given she had no idea if  _ he _ was going to try and kill  _ her _ .

 

Still it would be difficult to deny that letting him thunk to the floor had caused her no uncertain measure of satisfaction.

 

Heavy waves of exhaustion rolled across her, through her, making it difficult to keep her eyes open, her attention focused.  She hadn’t slept in so long, since… since the previous day back on Ahch-To on her pallet in the Jedi Temple ruins, waking up early to get away on the supply mission before Master Skywalker could accost her with ‘training’. The training seemed more like chores, if she was perfectly honest, she’d been scrubbing the steps of the temple the day before that. But he said they would help her learn patience. As if she needed too. She’d already proven she could wait.

 

In the space between consciousness and dreams it seemed like she could almost see Master Skywalker there, sitting across from her, a fire burning between them throwing dark shadows on his face. He’d never really looked quite like a legend should, too scruffy and unkempt, too guarded, too fierce. She wondered if he’d always been that way or if something had broken in him when Kylo Ren had destroyed everything he’d worked for.

 

“Master Skywalker…”

 

The words felt thick on her tongue and she wasn’t sure if she spoken them aloud.

 

“I fear you have a grave test ahead of you Rey.” His voice was serious, very measured. The smoke from the fire made her eyes sting and water, making the image of him blur and twist before her.

 

“I am sorry I cannot be there with you, but I know you have the strength. I know you have the patience. Come back to me, my last padawan.”

 

And with that sleep claimed her entirely.

 

Rey woke suddenly, catapulted awake, sweating, stifling a cry on her lips. Pain flared brightly through her head, tearing through her side. She’d been sleeping awkwardly, head twisted back against the cold metal, legs drawn up in front of her and now everything hurt. For a moment, in the dark, she couldn’t remember where she was or why her body hurt so much, then--

 

_ Where was he? _

 

The light trickled in from the crack in the loading bay, just enough to illuminate the face of the man silently watching her.

 

Her heart lurched and she scrambled to her feet, lightsaber in hand. With a flick of the button it hummed to life, burning blue in the dimness.Her grasp on the hilt was so tight that it made her hand ache.

 

“If you move, I will kill you.” The pain in her head was flaring up again, making it difficult to focus on him but her voice was steady enough, steadier than she felt.

 

“I could have killed you in your sleep, if I’d wanted too.” His face was unrevealing in the half-light.

 

It took a great deal for her to deactivate her lightsaber and return it to her side but she forced herself to relax her hold, to keep it loosely at her side.

 

To show weakness would be to let him win.

 

“Do you expect me to say thank you?”

 

She was relieved to hear the disdain, the strength in her own voice.

 

“No, no I don’t imagine you would.”

 

The silence settled between them again, heavy and impenetrable. All she could hear was the shriek of the wind and the measured in-and-out of his breath.  She could leave, try and make it back to the Falcon but she knew it would be even colder out there now. Deadly cold. Especially for someone in little more than a flightsuit. Her only hope was to stay put but it was a little like sharing at a cave with a rancor and hoping it wouldn’t eat you before morning. 

 

It seemed like hours passed as she sat there, sweat trickling down her face despite the coldness of the room. Staring at him opposite her until his face became little more than a collection of pale shapes in the darkness.  Eventually the sand piled up against the ship, gradually cutting off her only source of light, leaving a dark that was so complete she could no longer see him even though he was a few feet in front of her. 

 

The wind howling round the ship outside, made her feel as if they were the only two people left in the universe.

  
  
  


Rey watched the tiny sliver of light, the only pinprick left after the storm, on the sand covered floor turn from grey to pink to fierce white. The day was going to be blindingly hot, she could already tell. Opposite her, Kylo Ren was asleep or meditating she wasn’t sure which. His head was down, his eyes closed but it would be unwise to assume. 

 

Still just for a second her hand hovered over her lightsaber.

 

But nothing had changed, it would still be foolish.

 

She had to dig the sand from the entrance, scooping gritty handfuls away. Light burst through suddenly, searingly bright after the darkness of the ship and she pushed the rest away hurriedly, pulling herself up through the narrow gap.

 

The heat hit her the second she was out. She was sweating already, unused to desert planets anymore. The Rebel base was temperature controlled, kept just warm enough to be palatable to most of the species staying there. It had always felt a little chilly to Rey truth be told but she wasn’t going to complain. Right now she rather missed it.

 

“Almost like home, sweet home” she muttered to herself, shielding her eyes against the  blinding  sunlight that reflected off of the ships carapace. The sands stretched in front of her, seemingly endless. Drifts of it had built up against the command shuttle and the Falcon, almost obscuring them from view. 

 

No animals here, no birds, even on Jakku there’d been Steelpeckers in the skies, Gnaw-jaws howling in the night. Not nice creatures by any stretch of imagination but somehow better than this…  _ emptiness _ , this silence.

 

There was a sound behind her and Kylo Ren hauled himself out of the narrow gap with far less grace than she was used to seeing from him. She swallowed a snort of laughter as his robe got caught on the jagged metal, nearly tumbling him to his knees. It was surreal, to be so close to laughing at this man who had nearly killed her, who _ had _ killed so many other people.

 

If she was made uncomfortable by the heat, he looked completely destroyed by it. Sweat was already rolling down his forehead and the hair around his face was plastered to his skin. He was breathing hard, nearly panting, though that might have been from his injury as much as the heat. Out here she could see the blood still seeping sluggishly from the wound on his head, could see the dark red staining the front of his tunic, the pained unfocused look in his eyes. The dark storm coloured bruises starting to form on his pale skin. 

 

Would it be worse if he died? Was it better to be here alone or with a monster for company?

 

She wasn’t sure.

 

“You stole my lightsabre.” There was anger in his voice, not much, but enough to colour the words, enough to make her wary. 

 

“Given that you tried to kill me with it last time we met I thought it might be a good idea.”

 

In the light he was easy to read, shadows of emotions flickering across his face like the clouds racing across the sky. Easy to read meant easy to control, as Master Skywalker was fond of drilling into her. A Jedi should be the master of emotion, never let it be his leader. It was easy to see why the man in front of her had never become a Jedi Knight.

 

Right now she watched as anger and a tinge of regret chased each other across his face, before something melancholy settled there.

 

“I didn’t.” His words were soft but clipped as if he didn’t really want to speak about this. As if she were  _ inconveniencing  _ him somehow by talking about it. 

 

“If I tried to kill you, you would be dead.” 

 

That annoyed her, she wasn’t the one who had ended up sprawled on the floor, a burn across their face. Before the ground had split between them she could have finished him. She grit her teeth, biting down on the urge to turn around and tell him so.

 

Rey licked her dry lips, realising for the first time how truly thirsty she was. Water shouldn’t be a problem, she should be able to tap into the two ships reserves for that. A quick calculation told her that there should be enough for four months in the Falcon, if she took the water from the cooling system as well. The command shuttle she was less sure on, the schematics were completely unknown to her but a ship that size would have to have at least some reserves. Food would become an issue quicker, she hadn’t brought much on the supply run with her. Barely enough for a week, maybe two if they rationed.  

 

A quick glance under her lashes took in the sweating, miserable figure of Kylo Ren next to her. Two weeks of food, for two people. Four weeks for one, a much greater chance of survival. When he realised that she’d have to be on her guard at every moment. 

  
She might quickly come to regret not having killed him when she had the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

On the third day Rey woke to the sound of coughing.

 

It sounded bad. The wet, hacking kind that came from deep inside, as if something had gone badly wrong in there. The small breaths he was managing to gasp between the coughs sounded disconcertingly liquid and bubbling. Like he was drowning on the air.

 

She rolled to her side, opening her eyes, letting them adjust to the dim light.

 

His head was hanging down, sweat dampened strands hanging limply in his eyes and though his skin had reddened under the sun yesterday, turning shiny pink and blistered, around the edges he looked even more waxy pale than usual. Which was something she hadn’t even thought was possible.

 

He heaved another ragged breath, coughed one final time and then turned his head to splatter bright arterial red across the sandy floor. It dripped down his chin, startling against his pale skin. When he noticed her staring he wiped it away, a quick harsh gesture as if he were embarrassed by the weakness.

 

Something almost like pity tried to spark within her but she stepped on it ruthlessly. This was not a man to be pitied.

 

She closed her eyes again, taking stock of herself. The pain in her head was little more than a dull thud this morning, something to be grateful for. Thirst was ever-present but she could siphon some water from the tanks outside before the day got too hot. Hunger was gnawing at her middle as well. She’d have to go scavenging in the wreck of the Falcon today, see what food she could salvage. Check the beacon at the same time probably, check it was still transmitting.

 

Maybe she could patch up the Falcon enough to give her some kind of space, there was enough ‘scrap’, she could fashion it into something enough to shelter her. Into some kind of home.

 

Home.

 

She’d been thinking about it too much lately, making her wonder if she’d ever even had one. Part of her had started to think of the temple as home, another part the Rebel Alliance base. To another part it would always be desolate Jakku.

But had there been somewhere before that? Somewhere she couldn’t remember, somewhere safe and sheltered, with parents or siblings who’d cared for her? The thought of it made her sick with longing.

 

Her eyes felt suddenly tight with unshed tears but she wasn’t going to let them fall. Better to bury them. She had to be realistic, however much it hurt. It might be a very long time before she got off of this planet.

 

First things first, she needed water.

 

The sand in the air made her cough as soon as she stepped outside, turned her throat raw after only a few breaths. She narrowed her eyes against the grit, pushing the stray strands of hair out of her face. The sun was barely rising, a tiny sliver of gold on the horizon but she could feel the heat in the air already and she wanted to be done with the tasks she’d set herself before it was fully risen. The cooling system was pretty easy to locate, still intact despite the rough landing. It was a simple matter to knock away the covering of sand and tap it, let some of the water flow out into her hands. It left her with a sharp aftertaste on her tongue, the metal from the ship’s components maybe, but it slaked her thirst for now. She would have to find out how much the ship had. To ration it out correctly.

 

There was a soft sound behind her and she whipped round, back connecting sharply with the metal of the shuttle.

 

Kylo Ren appeared to be barely standing, his legs visibly shaking under the strain of holding him upright. There was still a smear of blood on his lips and his chest was hitching under the weight of his suppressed coughs. 

 

But she wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him.

 

For a moment Rey held herself ready, every muscle trembling, reaching down to grasp her lightsaber. The hilt was cold where it pressed into her palm and she saw his eyes flicker down to it.

 

“I want my lightsabre returned to me.” To her surprise he sounded  _ petulant  _ and almost absurdly young. She could easily see him right then as the child he’d been, the child General Leia must have loved, the child Han Solo must have carried around on his shoulders.

 

A child.

 

But probably a nasty, mean-spirited child like the ones who hung around on the edge of the settlements on Jakku and hurled rocks at droids or animals or anything weaker than them.

 

_ Yes. _

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

She hadn’t given it to him yesterday when he’d asked, why did he think she’d have changed her mind today?

 

“It’s mine. I built it. You had no right to take it.”

 

The  _ smell _ was what she remembered the most about his lightsaber. It had smelt like the moment before a lightning strike, pungent and sharp and unpleasant. When he’d held it next to her face, the smell had seemed to invade her world until it had made her want to vomit. 

 

She’d buried it under the ruins of the Falcon, as deep as she could manage to dig.

 

“When I believe you’re truly not a threat, then I’ll return it.”

 

So that would be precisely never. Nothing would convince her the man who stood opposite her was anything but a monster.

 

“If I prove myself. Then you’ll return my lightsaber.”

 

_ Never, never, never.  _

 

“Then I’ll think about it.”

 

He nodded slightly, as if he had been expecting this.

 

“Very well. Tell me what I have to do.”

 

As if it were that simple. As if it would ever be that simple.

 

She wanted him helpless, even  _ half _ as afraid as she had been in the forest when he'd stalked around her like an animal just waiting to take the first bite from its prey. Not able to move, the metallic taste of fear on her tongue.

 

“Kneel. Put your hands behind your head.”

 

He frowned, looked at her blankly for a long moment.

 

“What?”

 

The irritation rising within her helped her deal with her fear. Of course he wouldn’t do it, he’d never debase himself so much. And when he refused, she would have her justification for never,  _ ever  _ giving him his damned lightsaber back.

 

“You heard me. You want me to believe in your words, that you’re not a threat to me. Fine.  _ Kneel _ .”

 

To her surprise, he glared at her then dropped first to one knee then to both, wincing a little. From this angle she could see the dried blood matting in his curls.

 

“Does this satisfy you?”

 

He  _ looked _ harmless, head hanging, breath coming in sharp little gasps that sounded painful. But that didn’t mean what she was seeing was true, he’d tried before to appear reasonable, genuine. 

And even with him kneeling at her feet, his arms raised,his presence still made her feel bitterly afraid, weak,  _ helpless _ .

 

All the things she most hated feeling. 

 

“You say that you wouldn’t hurt me. But you’ve hurt people before. Why should I ever trust you?”

 

“Do you have a choice? It’s just the two of us, alone. What else can you do.”

 

“I could kill you.”

 

“You won’t.” He answered, quickly. Too quickly for her liking.

 

“No, maybe I won’t. But I could hurt you. Pay you back for every injury you gave my friends.”

 

She hesitated, then reached out. He closed his eyes just before her fingers touched his skin. It was still hot, almost fever hot, damp with sweat and for a second she wondered how he had even managed to stay upright long enough to get out here. But he might easily be stronger than he appeared...

 

She activated her lightsaber, felt him jump slightly under the hand still touching him. 

 

“I could burn you, the way you burnt Finn.” Her fingertip dragged down to his shoulder, settling over the heavy black material “Here. I could do that.”

 

He opened his eyes slowly, staring up at her, looking strangely distant.

 

“You’re angry at me.” For some reason he sounded almost surprised. As if he’d thought she could ever forget Finn’s screams.

 

Abruptly he reached up a hand to his own face, moving her fingers so they brushed against the rough line of his scar. She fought the urge to snatch her hand away, maybe wipe it against her flight suit. His fingers were burning hot, like brands against her skin, the shake in them palpable. She took the meaning, the reproach behind the gesture well enough but she had probably done him a favour. The scar made him look less like an open-faced boy and more like a dangerous man.

 

“You gave me this scar, we’re more than even for the traitor. But I understand.” his voice was soft, cajoling  “I understand the anger, I’ve spent my whole life angry.”

 

She yanked her hand away. Her skin was tingling where he’d touched her, her mouth bone dry. He let his own hand drop heavily back to his side, as if it were too much effort to hold it up any longer.

 

“You don’t understand a _ thing _ . And you never will.”  The hum of her lightsaber died as she deactivated it, leaving nothing but an empty echoing silence behind. She should have just left him there, should have turned and walked away. Walked away from the subtle anger sparking in his eyes. But she’d never been very good at knowing when to leave things alone.

 

“You had parents who loved you. People who cared about you and you…what? Threw it away so you could get stronger? Become more powerful?”  Her lip curled slightly, mocking him. She pushed a disdainful finger against his shoulder, sending him rocking backward slightly. In his current state she could see him struggle not to keel over backwards. “How’s that working out for you?”

 

His fever-bright eyes glared at her. He was weak and she was tormenting him, it was petty of her, cruel even but at the same time a hot, mean satisfaction was coiling in her belly. She was distantly aware he was suddenly near to striking her, teetering on some kind of knife edge of control. And she  _ wanted _ him to.

 

_ Strike me, hit me. I’ll repay it back with interest and a clear conscience. _

 

He went to stand but instead toppled forward, threw out an arm to stop himself from sprawling prostrate on the sand before her. Watched as his trembling hands fisted in the sand, forcing the grains to spill through his fingers. A pained little whimper escaped his lips and just like that she knew for  _ certain  _ this was no act.

 

Lying in the sand at her feet was exactly where she’d wanted him a moment ago but she couldn’t even find the tiniest sliver of satisfaction in it now. Disgust overwhelmed her at herself for once, not him. After only a few days stuck here she was letting her worst impulses control her, Master Skywalker would be disappointed in her. 

  
Rey turned her back and walked away, leaving him kneeling in the shadow of the command ship. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always for Snow, my psychic trash twin who I am in co-dependent fandom relationship with.

Five days they’d been here. Five white marks scratched onto the wall, a habit she’d been unable to break from Jakku. 

 

And Kylo Ren wasn’t dead yet. 

 

Or at least he hadn’t been when Rey had left him that morning to go scavenge again in the wreckage of the Falcon. He’d just laid there, twitching with fever dreams that made him frown and occasionally cry out sharply. The same way he’d called out in the dark last night, she’d only managed to sleep in small scraps, waking every time he so much as whimpered with her heart pounding and her hand on her lightsaber, her own head full of panicked dreams. Something about sleeping a few feet away from a murderer obviously made her feel uneasy.

 

The Falcon contained even less food than she’d thought. A few stacks of stale, dried up rations designed for emergency use. From the look of them, they’d possibly been on there since Han Solo had first got it. Still she made the effort, hauling them back over to the command shuttle and stowing them in one of corners of the main room. Then she’d pushed her way down through it’s smashed up storage area, having more luck there. Cases of neatly labelled, neatly stored rations designed for Stormtrooper use. Enough to keep them going for a little while anyway. To keep them going until help arrived. If it arrived.

 

Breaking off a chunk she went back to sit outside, to eat out in the air before the day got too hot. She left the rest of the ration bar on a seat in the main room, somewhere he'd probably be able to see it if he was awake. It wasn’t her job to see he got fed.

 

She was starting to notice little differences to Jakku, not just the lack of life but the grittiness of the sand, the taste of the air, the blueness of the sky. Little things. Like the fact there were no flowers here that she’d seen, none at all. They’d been rare on Jakku, true, but they’d been there. 

 

The sense of hopelessness that was welling up in her, that was new too. On Jakku somehow she’d never doubted that her family would return, one day, and that her life would get better. Here there was a creeping, dragging feeling of certainty that no one would ever find them.

 

She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the possibility of rescue. She’d built her speeder from parts back on Jakku, she could easily scavenge enough elements to make something similar here. Just because she couldn’t see any civilisation didn’t mean it wasn’t there, maybe even just over the horizon. Even a primitive settlement would surely help them survive until someone picked up their beacon.

 

Rey stared hard at the far-off horizon as she chewed her tasteless ration bar, trying to imagine civilisation just over the distant heat-blurred curve. 

 

Finally she dragged herself up, dusting off the crumbs and picking up the flask she’d filled earlier from the Falcon’s limited water supply. Master Luke would probably tell her to show compassion, to take him the water, make sure he’d eaten the food. But she felt tired, numb, oddly adrift. Not at all inclined to show kindness to the monster sharing her living space. The weather was going to drive her in anyway though, the heat was already on its way to becoming unbearable. 

  
  


He was lying still in the corner when she climbed back in. Swathed in shadows, shivering under his own cloak. His fever seemed worse. Eyes flickering rapidly underneath his lids, skin dripping with sweat and his breath sounded even more laboured than it had yesterday. She put the water bottle beside his hand within easy grasping reach and, after a moment's deliberation, moved the rest of the ration bar next to it.

 

It was stifling in here, the air seemed almost solid, like she was going to choke on it. The reek of drying blood and sour sweat. But outside the sun would soon be strong enough to bake her, crisp her skin dark red and leave her drinking her way through their water supply. Better to just deal with the humid, rank air in here and the unsettling presence of her companion. 

 

She sat down and scuffed her toe across the pile of parts at her feet, sorting between them. She’d brought them in here to give her something to wile away the hottest part of the day with. Try and put together some kind of engine, the start of the second speeder. It gave her something to focus on, something to do with her hands at least. 

 

Something practical.

 

She picked up the turbojet and got to work.

 

After awhile she thought maybe the sound of his breathing was going to drive her insane. It wasn’t the sound itself so much as it was that…  it was the _ only  _ sound. No soft engine noises, no distant footsteps, not even the distant calls of traders and animals like on Jakku. Nothing. Just Kylo Ren and his endless rasping breath. It made her skin crawl.

 

As if to spite her last thought, the command shuttle creaked around her, a long torturous groan, stilling her fingers as she screwed power cells together. For the first time she wondered if it was really safe to be in here, if it would settle into the sand more. Maybe collapse and kill them both in the night.

 

It was strange how little that thought bothered her right now.

 

“I’m dying and all you can do is play around with junk.”

 

His voice surprised her, she’d thought he was still sleeping, hadn’t heard any change in his breathing to indicate he’d woken. A creeping sense of unease crawled up her spine as she wondered how long he’d been laying there, watching her.

 

She deliberately didn’t look at him, instead focusing on her oil stained fingers.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

 

“You hate me.”

 

She almost laughed when he said that.

 

“It’s alright,” he answered, as if she’d acknowledged what he said “you’re not the first. And you won’t be the last.”

 

Rey finally let herself look up at him, fixing him under the weight of her stare. He looked like he could barely focus on her, head lolling back as he tried to look up, eyes filmy and distant. It gave her that same pang of pity, the one where she almost allowed herself to feel badly for him. There was something about him that was at the same time pitiful and frightening.

 

“You killed your father. How do you  _ expect _ me to feel about you?”

 

There was a wheezy puff of air from him that might have been a laugh.

 

“It went wrong somehow.”

 

He balled a shaking fist, pressed it over his chest. 

 

“The darkness was supposed to fill the space, make me stronger.” The last word cut off oddly, as if his throat had closed up on him. 

 

“But now I’m going to be hollow, forever,” he murmured, eyes burning bright with the fever. The hair was stuck to his skin in little sweaty dark curls. For reason she thought of General Leia, how she must have soothed him through fevers as a child, brushing those damp curls back out of his face.

 

“Shut up.”

 

She didn’t want him talking, didn’t want to hear his justifications, his confessions. He had murdered his father, he deserve to feel hollowed out, eaten up. He deserved to  _ suffer _ .

The urge to stalk over to the hatch, to push it all the way open and spill out into the clean air outside was becoming almost unbearable. It was too close in here. 

 

“The planet where you were before, the desert planet--”

 

“--Jakku.”

 

“Yes. You weren’t born there, were you?”

 

She grit her teeth so hard she thought for a second they might break.“No.”

 

“No,” he repeated quietly, as if he were absorbing and processing the information “No of course not.”

 

Her skin felt hot and tight, her grip tightening around the brittle beginnings of her project until she felt the metal give beneath her fingers.

 

“And you were lonely weren’t you?” his voice broke a little-- soft, almost compassionate. Something he shouldn’t have known, wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t been inside her head, hadn’t picked over her own personal thoughts and memories, hadn’t dragged them out into the light, laid them bare before him. It was the same way he’d spoken to her yesterday, when he’d talked about her anger and she’d had the sense he was offering her… what? She wasn’t sure. Understanding perhaps.

 

“So was I. Surrounded by people but lonely. I had no purpose, none of them wanted me, all of them were afraid of me. Afraid of what I might become.”

 

His voice was raw and he sounded so self-pitying and...lost. Dreadfully, completely lost. 

 

She could remember when she’d pushed back into his mind, how his terror had surrounded her soupy and thick, the fear so visceral that she had imagined it sinking into his bones, black and tar-like. He thought he wasn’t strong enough, dark enough...no not thought,  _ knew _ he wasn’t and the fear seemed to leak from his mind to stain everything. But beyond that there had been snatches of memories that seemed like they were made of light, brilliant and dazzling, of being hoisted up onto his father’s shoulders, of his mother kissing his forehead. Of being held and coddled. A part of her had wanted to push into those memories, to devour them and make them her own somehow.

 

She wasn’t sure if he knew she’d seen it. Wasn’t sure she wanted to remember it.

 

Because remembering it meant acknowledging he had been someone’s child, someone’s much loved child. And that he was terrified, as terrified now as he’d been then. Ever since she’d been in his mind it was almost like she could feel it flowing off of him, staining the air around him. 

 

What would Master Luke want her to do? What… what would  _ General Leia _ want her to do?

 

She was acutely aware that the smallest gesture from her right now might change things between them. If she just reached out to him, comforted him…

 

_ No. _

 

“And you proved them right.”

 

Rey balled her hands tightly into fists, until her nails cut bloody crescents into her skin.

 

“You became a monster.”

 

“No,” his voice was soft and cracked “no, they made me one. Give them enough time and they'd make you one too.”

 

She opened her mouth to ask who he meant by ‘they’ then snapped it shut again. What did it matter who he blamed? Whether it was the First Order or his parents or someone else? No one else but  _ him _ was responsible for what he’d become.


	5. Chapter 5

  
  


Her headache returned with a vengeance that afternoon, making it impossible to concentrate on building the engine. The parts seemed to blur and waver in her hands. Eventually she let them drop to the floor, her fingers feeling too heavy to hold them up anymore. Her heartbeat was pounding behind her eyeballs and her skin felt like it was burning away from her, crisping from the inside out.  Rocking her head back, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the wall. The metal felt blessedly cold against her burning skin.

 

What was wrong? This wasn’t… right. She’d felt fine earlier, she’d been careful to drink enough water, she’d even eaten. What was wrong...

 

It was almost as if his fever had been contagious.

 

A little sliver of doubt worked it’s way into her thoughts and she forced her eyes open. Scanning the darkened room for him. When she’d returned to her work he’d been asleep again, huddled in the same corner as before.

 

Now there was just an abandoned black cloak, lying crumpled on the floor.

 

Her skin went suddenly cold under the sweat and a thin thrill of fear ran up her spine.

 

Despite the unnerving fact she couldn't locate him, eventually her eyes drooped closed again. It was too much effort to keep them open, to keep focusing. 

 

Maybe she’d been ill all along but denying it, had kept going on adrenaline. 

 

A hand pressed against her skin, cold and firm. Her eyes shot open, focusing on the man looming over her. 

 

“Don’t touch me.” She twitched her face away, causing his hand to fall limply back to his side. He stared down at her and she thought it was the kind of look one might give an errant hound that was refusing to come when called. 

 

He looked… better. Still pale, still gaunt and he still winced with pain when he bent down to her but it hardly looked liked the same man who had been on death’s door that morning.

 

He was watching her quizzically, as if he was trying to figure something out. 

 

“Your training. You’ve learnt about force healing.”

 

“What? No.” It was difficult to get her mouth to move, to form the words. More difficult to focus on what he was talking about. She could vaguely recall healing being mentioned, maybe once. While Master Luke had been showing her how to meditate, they’d talked about how it could be use to speed along the healing process but there hadn’t been any specifics. Just airy ideas about concentrating her energy that she couldn’t quite grasp.

 

“It doubt it was precisely force healing then...  but my pain is gone, the fever as well. You took them from me, at least partially.”

 

He reached out as if to touch her again but stopped when she flinched, fingers hovering inches away from her skin. Close too she could smell the sour sweat smell coming from him, could see his hair was still hanging in clumps about his face. Not quite back to his polished First Order look yet then.

 

“I don’t think it comes to you as naturally as your other abilities.Yet you must have been feeling sympathy for me, a little at least.” The assurance with which he said it made her vividly picture picking up one of the parts she’d been working on and smashing him across the face with it. The headache was still throbbing viciously behind her eyes. 

 

“No.” The word was snapped out. It hadn’t been sympathy for him. For his mother maybe, briefly, a flicker. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

 

Master Luke had never said anything about being able to take someone’s pain through the Force. She hadn’t even tried, hadn’t even felt like she’d reached out to him the way she’d done when she pushed back into his mind. Part of her wondered if he’d done it somehow, pushed his pain onto her in order to weaken her. 

 

She stared up at the front of his surcoat at the drying blood there, no longer the bright red it had earlier but a rusty brown. It seemed as if it had stopped bleeding. He must have caught her glance, waving a hand toward the stain.

 

“I healed my wounds.”

 

A fragment of teaching floating into her pain-ridden mind and a slightly sneer twitched up the corners of her mouth.

 

“You can’t use the Dark Side to heal.”

 

He looked worried then, something flitting across his face so quickly she couldn’t interpret it. Or maybe it was just that the pain was making it difficult to focus, she’d found him so easy to read before.

 

“It was easier than normal. To heal. I thought you might be helping somehow…”

 

He trailed off, staring at her, eyes narrowed. As if she would ever intentionally weaken herself to help an enemy, someone like him. In the end he dropped his gaze, picked up the water container she’d left beside him earlier and held it to her lips

 

“You need to drink.” Slightly impatient but with an edge of softness, of guilt. He really thought she’d done this for him, that she’d deliberately hurt herself to help him. Well if it kept him from killing her in her sleep she’d let him keep believing that.

 

He tilted the container slightly so a thin trickle of lukewarm water ran down her parched throat. His hand came up to cradle her head, supporting it gingerly like she’d shatter if he applied too much pressure. She felt too weak to ward him off, too weak to push away from the gentle touch. 

 

“Stop.”

 

She had to make him stop.

 

Because part of her wanted it. Part of her wanted him to soothe her, to feed her water and coddle her. It was something she’d never had. No one had ever looked after her when she was sick, she’d always just curled up in a corner of her AT-AT and waited for it to pass. When she was young she’d called out for the parents she couldn’t remember, wanting someone to come and take care of her. But there had been no one. Her eyes were suddenly stinging, pricking with tears but she blinked them back.

 

She saw him hesitate, looking down at her and wiped the thoughts from her mind. Just in case. 

 

He set her head carefully back against the wall and sat back on his haunches. It was a pose reminiscent of the one when she’d woken up in the interrogation room. 

 

“When users of the Dark Side heal, the effects are usually...impermanent, at best. My injuries may well return quickly. So we should use this time to formulate a plan, to get us off of this planet.”

 

“That’s what I was doing when you accused me of playing around with junk. I was--” she winced, struggling into a more upright position, trying to ignore how the room started pitching and swaying around her. Trying to ignore the way his hand twitched toward her as if he wanted to reach out and support her “-- building a Speeder. So I could go for help.”

 

His nod was quick, distracted as if the idea wasn't really of any consequence,

 

“The distress beacon is it--”

 

“--wasn’t working. Patched it up, signals weak though.”

 

“You’re  _ sure  _ it’s working now.”

 

She was reasonably sure, as much as she could think around the pain in her head.

 

“Feel free to look at it if you think you have a better grasp of mechanics.”

 

He shot her an angry look and she felt a little surge of victory. The anger was better, better than the cloying concern he’d been showing before.

 

“That’s what I thought.” 

 

Her smugness disappeared as wave of nausea gripped her and she had to close her eyes. It was getting worse.

 

She heard him sigh, a put-upon kind of sound.

 

“You need to sleep. To heal.”

  
He brushed his fingers lightly against her temple and before she could even voice her outrage sleep rose up to claim her. 


	6. Chapter 6

Rey woke suddenly from a sweaty, heavy sleep.

 

His black cloak was draped over her, weighing her down, trapping her. With a little cry of disgust she threw it off. It lay in a pile on the floor, she watched it for a moment like it would presently rear up and bite her but it remained lifeless. Her dreams had been unpleasant, filled with nameless monsters and terrors. From the fever most likely.

 

She pressed a hand to her forehead, it felt cooler as far as she could judge. In general her head felt stuffy but better, the pain had receded into a dull mutter in the back of her mind. Everything ached but the kind of ache that felt like it would disappear eventually. 

 

The rest of the shuttle appeared to be deserted, unless Kylo Ren had crawled his way down into the other half sand submerged rooms for some unknown reason. The thought of it amused her a little. It was strange-- most of the fear of him seemed to have died away with her headache, something she found a little unnerving. She still hated him, that  _ revulsion _ for him was still there, vital and present but the fear had faded. 

 

Shrugging it off, she stumbled to her feet, shuffling her way over to the hatch like a badly calibrated droid. Her body protested every step but she forced herself to keep going. Staying hunched up in the corner would only make it worse.

 

It was still hot outside, but not the brutal heat of day anymore. It was refreshing after the soupy-thick air inside the shuttle. She tilted her head up, automatically checking the sky for signs of ships, listening for the distant thrum of engines. No such luck.

 

There was a  hunched black shape visible against the deep red light of the setting sun.

 

Of course he hadn’t gone far, where could he go out here?

 

She let herself drop down next to him, the action stirring up a cloud of sand. There was still a fair few hands breadth of space between them, enough that she could be up and out of reach of him before he could cross it, if she needed too.

 

He shifted slightly beside her, tilting his head back against the carapace of the ship but not looking at her in a way that seemed almost deliberate.

 

They’d never sat with each other before. There was something too...casual about it, sitting next to your enemy when you had the strength to stand. His eyes had an odd sunken appearance, but he hadn’t reverted to the sick look he’d had before. He looked stronger in fact, something she found worrying. The last thing she wanted was him back at full strength.

 

But she supposed she’d been the one who’d come out and here and sat down next to him. Like it was some kind of peace offering.

 

Maybe it was that she was tired of being on edge, of guarding against him every waking moment. Fine, he wouldn’t kill her and she wouldn’t kill him. A truce. It didn’t mean she had to forgive him, or even that she had to get rid of the simmering hatred she felt for him. It just meant that sometimes they could sit quietly in each others company and not worry about dying.

 

She leant back. The metal of the ship was sun-warmed against her spine, cooled just enough to feel comforting. If she’d tried this a few hours ago no doubt it would have burnt her skin through her clothing.

 

The thought had occurred to her that what if this was the cold season? What if it just got hotter and hotter until they slowly baked in the shell of the command shuttle? 

 

She  _ hated _ deserts.

 

She suddenly remembered the forest on Takodana. No one had ever told her that plants could smell so  _ good _ , so rich and full and perfect. Every step had brought different scents, sharp and wet and overwhelming. So different from the ghost of papery scent that lingered on the flowers she’d kept in her AT-AT.

 

Here there was just the dry smell of heat.

 

“I just want to be clean again.” He muttered suddenly, breaking the silence, reaching up to scrub at his dusty skin.

 

The gesture was so startlingly human it made her laugh. A short, surprised exhale of a laugh.

 

She really couldn’t picture him as a human, as a person who used the fresher and picked out clean clothes. It was true that his First Order regalia was starting to look a little worse for wear, the black smudged all over with the reddish-brown of the sand and several layers discarded to make the heat bearable. He looked a mess, just as much as she did.

 

He looked startled by her laugh, seeming confused by the sound “You’re feeling better.”

 

“Yes.”

 

There was a long drawn out silence between them. An expectant silence. Like he was waiting for her thanks, her gratitude. For _ not _ killing her.

 

She warred with herself internally for a moment, torn between letting it continue and just giving him what he wanted.

 

“Thank you. For the help.” The words were begrudging, she could hear how stilted she sounded. But if there was going to be a truce, she would have to make an attempt to be  _ nice _ .

 

“You helped me. I helped you. It was nothing.”

 

She stiffened.

 

“I didn’t help you. I  _ wouldn’t _ help you. Never.”

 

The uneasy peace they’d achieved shattered so quickly it was like it had never existed. It was almost a relief.

 

“There’s so much darkness in you.”

 

He said it in such a tone of...  _ wonder _ . 

 

“I am on the side of the light, I—“

 

He cut her off. “You… _ tormented _ me. When I was  _ injured _ . Forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.”

 

“It’s no less than you’d have done to me.”

 

If he hadn’t needed her, if he hadn’t believed she had helped him first.

 

She saw the lightning quick flash of his anger across his face and tensed, hand darting down to her lightsaber. It was like the strange blanket of calm had been ripped away from her, and all of what he was, what he had  _ done _ had come flooding back. Had he done that to her somehow? Suppressed her fear of him?

 

“I never hurt you!  _ Never _ !” his words were bellowed suddenly, his restraint momentarily disappearing. He slammed his fist into the metal, leaving a sizeable dent.

 

“No, you didn’t,” she acknowledged quietly, though she wanted to scream right back at him or turn and run, her hand still tight around her lightsaber hilt “That made it worse.”

 

“ _ What _ ?”

 

“How could you murder all those people, people who had done nothing wrong,  _ your own father. _ How could you torture Poe,  _ terrorise _ Finn and… try to be so  _ damned  _ gentle with me. It’s not  _ fair _ !”

 

Her anger was starting to leak out and she pushed herself to her feet so she towered above him for once. She knew he’d tried to be considerate to her, she knew he could have ripped the secrets of the map out of her while she was still reeling and afraid. 

 

She’d seen it in his mind… what he could have done to her, what he had done to others.

 

He looked surprised.

 

“Because you’re… like me.”

 

Her temper flared properly, the easiness of the anger surprising her slightly. He had treated her like she was  _ special _ , and the last thing she wanted was to be special to this monster.

 

“I’m nothing like you.”

 

“No, no you are. I feel it. The anger, the hatred…”

 

“ _ No _ .”

 

“And it’s difficult isn’t it? Every day…every single day you feel it.”

 

He must have seen something in her face that spurred him on, he pushed himself to his feet, taking a beseeching step toward her, hand out-stretched. She felt it again, the strange desire to trust him, the odd assurance that seemed to sweep over her when he spoke.

 

_ He’s doing this to you, he’s trying to put you off your guard. _

 

“And they don’t understand do they? It comes so easy to them, so simply… they don’t know what it’s like to fight down the anger, to swallow the hatred until they burn inside you, consume you…”

 

“Get out of my head!”

 

“I’m not  _ in _ your head.”

 

_ Liar _ . She could feel him somehow, not as present as he’d been in the interrogation room but a slight flutter of something in the back of her mind. 

 

“I sensed it. Straight away. That we were equals. I’ve never…no one’s ever been even close.”

 

A new, different terror crashed over her, mixed in with a wave of sick repulsion. He really believed it. He really honestly, truly believed they were somehow the same.

 

The sun slipped the last little bit below the horizon and the blue-black of night started to enclose them. It would get cold, they should go inside now but she found herself frozen to spot, unable to move. 

 

_ He thought she was just like him. _

 

Han Solo, _ his father _ had trusted him, had reached out to him and he was now dead. She held that truth within herself, a hard little knot of fury in her stomach. Never had she murdered someone,not really, she’d raised her staff, her blaster against people true but only in self defense.

 

“Do you ever have dreams? Visions.” He said it as if he already knew the answer.

 

Her throat felt like it closed.She thought of Maz’s cantina, of the rapid scattering of things she’d seen. Maybe not visions precisely but something close. Too close.

 

“No.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

He was inches away from her face, eyes now sparking with a matching anger to hers, skin turning a mottled red in anger.

  
“I know you have them  _ because I do too _ .”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Real life ate me.

Rey had spent the night in the husk of the Falcon rather than see him again, had pulled together a few fallen panels to make some kind of shelter.

 

It had been stupid, she hadn’t gotten any sleep, the cold had been too bitter, too biting. Her aches and pains had doubled after the hard night, crawling their way deep into her bones and making each movement stiff. But his mood yesterday had unnerved her enough that it had seemed preferably to crawling into the dark of the command shuttle with him.

 

He was completely delusional. He thought she was just like him.

 

A _monster._

 

There was something about his utter _certainty_ that had panicked her. But more than that had been the weight of his persuasion. It had felt Force-enhanced like he was reaching out to tamper with her emotions but it had been so _subtle_.

 

She had nearly fallen for it, nearly let him convince her…

 

That would never happen again.

 

What she didn’t understand was if he could influence her that way, without her realising, why use it in a failed attempt to make her comfortable with him? Why not rifle through her memories to find where she’d put his lightsaber? Why not draw out the rest of her strength until she was weakened to the point he could take whatever he wanted?

 

Why waste his effort trying to make her trust him?

 

She eased herself into what was left of the command seat in the Falcon and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Concentrating as Master Luke had taught her. Letting herself turn her focus inward. It was difficult. The anger, the thrumming fear, meant that her concentration was shot.

 

Still there was something...like a soft place in the back of her mind, something that didn’t feel quite...right. But no matter how she pushed towards it, prodded it, nothing seemed to happen.

 

Giving up she let her head fall back against the worn material and opened her eyes. Whatever happened she’d have to go back tonight, her aching body wouldn’t take another night without proper shelter and apart from anything else she needed the parts she’d left there for the speeder.

 

Somehow she didn’t get the impression he’d _allow_ her to avoid him for long. And the last thing she wanted was to lose the upper hand to him, to be dragged back like some kind of a child, so she had to be the one to go back on her _own_ terms.

 

Besides the command shuttle had all the rations, the bigger supply of water. Like hell she was going to leave those under his control.

 

With a sigh she turned her attention to the ship she was in. She’d taken the rations over to the command shuttle before but that didn’t mean there weren’t things she couldn’t use here. Components, parts that could be stripped out and used for the speeder or repurposed to make life easier onboard the shuttle.

 

But scavenging the Falcon felt….disrespectful somehow. Like looting a corpse.

 

She only hesitated for a moment before her practicality got the best of her. Scrap was scrap, and the Falcon was never going to fly again that was for certain. Carefully she pulled back the hatch and slid her way down into the open grating below the floor, started work on loosening the repulsorlifts.

 

Its parts were old but serviceable though a lot of them had been repaired many times over. It gave her an ache in her chest to think of Han Solo patiently welding together these leaks in the fuel line  or cleaning off the carbon scoring.

 

She tried not to think about him too much.

 

When she did, it was always as an old man. Disgruntled, time-worn. Not the legendary smuggler from the tales told on Jakku. The holovids General Leia had shown her once of him as a younger man had looked too much like...his son. She’d avoided looking at them again.

 

The repulsorlifts weren’t too badly damaged actually, she thought she could salvage them, clean up the sand that had gotten inside. More difficult without Unkarr Platt’s washing tables and a limited supply of water but still doable. And sure, the Falcon wasn’t going to fly again but she might find another use for them. Maybe she shouldn’t be focusing on the speeder. Maybe she should be trying to repair the command shuttle. It looked badly damaged true but she’d done it before, back on Jakku, brought old ships back to life. Maybe, if she could get enough working parts she could get them off this planet. Of course there was no guarantee that her repairs would hold out in the blackness of space. They could buckle, could kill them before she even had a chance to do anything about it.

 

Would it be worth the risk?

 

Maybe the speeder first, then if that failed-- if they really were alone out here--then she’d risk it. Because even dying out there in the blackness couldn’t be worse than spending the rest of her life stuck here.

 

She pulled her staff from where it had been stashed in the crew area of the Falcon. It was better to keep it here, out of the way. Better not to leave any weapon where Kylo Ren could potentially get his hands on it. She resisted the urge to check on his lightsaber, pushing the location away as it came to mind. Just in case. It had been days--six now? seven?--since she had trained.

Decision made she threw her staff out of the gap then pulled herself up onto the hull of the Falcon.

 

She tugged up the scrap of fabric she’d fashioned into headgear a few days earlier. It was black, likely part of _his_ cloak or something similar but her flightsuit had limited material. And she wanted to protect herself a little, the skin that had started to soften a little on the rebel base was turning sand blasted and rough again. A small, ridiculous thing to get upset about but that didn’t stop her annoyance.

 

Trailing absent fingers over the lightsaber hilt, she scanned the horizon. There was no black smudge visible against the shimmering heat. He was most likely inside, probably would be for a little while yet.

 

It was cooling down, headed toward the blue hour again. Soon she’d have to stop putting it off and climb down into the airless pit of the command shuttle.

 

Her mind rebelled against the idea of doing that one second earlier than she had too.

 

So instead of turning toward the command shuttle, she walked a little way out into the sand, to a flat outcropping of rocks. Not high enough they’d really shield her if he came looking but they would give her a solid place to stand and would likely be less heated than the metal of the ship.

 

She started off with her lightsaber. Moving through the drills Master Luke had taught her slowly, deliberately. They were still pretty new to her, even though she’d fought before, even though she’d _won_ before, Master Luke had told her the style she favoured naturally wouldn’t work well in battle. It was too showy, no defense.

 

The hum and whir of the blade made her feel better, more in control. Reminded her that whatever Kylo Ren thought, _she_ was the one who held the power here.

 

The blade arced down into the final stance and then she drew a deep breath, shutting it off.

 

She slid the silver hilt down out of sight between two of the rocks and picked up her staff instead, its grip always more familiar and comfortable to her. Held it out in front of her crosswise, feeling its weight before she swung it in a smooth arching motion. Bringing it down, then swinging around to catch her imaginary enemies in the side. Jab upwards, crossover and then take out the legs. Easy. When she had her own lightsaber made she wanted it to be double ended, to be more like a staff. Master Luke had huffed, called it an impractical idea and too showy but he’d never expressly forbid it and he’d half-smiled when he said it. Which, she was learning, was as near to approval as she was likely to get.

 

Her arms, her shoulders, burned with the effort already and she was soaked to the skin with sweat.

 

But she would be damned if this planet made her soft.

 

Finally she finished the last stance, thumping the end down onto the rocks. She leant forward,  free hand on her knees, sweat dripping to the floor and heaved in great lungfuls of air. Breathing on this planet seemed more difficult somehow, more effortful. Or maybe her illness had weakened her more than she thought.

 

A shadow fell across the rock and a stab of fear and annoyance shot through her. .

 

“What do you--”

 

He had her saber in his hand, the metal cylinder glinting in the dying light.

 

_No._

 

Her breath caught in her throat.

 

“That’s mine. Give it back!”

 

“That’s interesting. Considering you _stole_ my lightsaber, I thought ownership was a foreign concept to you.”

 

He was looking for a reaction, clearly. For anger, or _fear_ more likely. She managed to school her face into a blank look, to meet his stare head on.

 

The flicker of disappointment on his eyes made the self-control worth it.

 

“Maybe one day you might learn to trust me.” He threw the saber back to her and she caught it one handed, cradling it against her chest protectively, a burst of relief sweeping through her. It felt like she’d won something against him but she wasn’t sure what or how.

 

“Your form was impressive, with the staff at least. If you returned my lightsaber we could duel. Avoid our skills going to wrack and ruin in this hellhole.”

 

Echoing her own thoughts from earlier.

 

“You still need a teacher.” He added, somewhat unnecessarily in her view.

 

She bristled at that.

 

“I beat you, I hardly think—“

 

“As I said before, if you believe for one moment that I was truly trying to kill you, you’re more foolish than you appear.”

 

The truth was, it would be nice to spar. And the opportunity to beat him into the ground was too tempting to pass up.

 

“Alright. But not with lightsabers, I’m not an idiot. Staffs.”

 

“Tomorrow then.” he said calmly, evenly.

 

“Tomorrow.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Their walk out to the rocks was undertaken in silence, each of them apparently lost in their own thoughts.

 

Rey felt...better. Healed. Like whatever she had taken from him had burnt through her far more quickly than it should have done. Maybe it was stupid to risk that for a fight. On Jakku she’d only ever fought when she had too. Anything else would have been a waste of energy. Out here she’d probably have been wise to apply the same principle, to conserve her strength for emergencies. 

 

But the truth of it was that she was bored, itching for something to do that wasn’t scavenging or huddling inside what was left of the command shuttle.

 

And… it would let her figure out exactly how strong he was. In case it came down to a  _ real _ fight.

 

_ When _ it came down to a real fight.

 

Her lightsaber was hidden under the seats in the Falcon. She’d hesitated for a long time over that. It would make her feel better to have it on her, something to fall back on in case he got out of hand. But it would be too easy for him to wrestle it from her.

 

Besides she only needed her staff to beat him.

 

They reached the rocks just as the rising sun was painting them in shades of rosy gold. The heat hanging in the air was already oppressive and she knew that this fight couldn’t last long before it drove them to shelter. All the more reason to end it quickly, to take him down.

 

She pulled up her headcover against the sun she could already feel burning her crown. Saw his eyes flicker to it for a moment. Wondered if he’d call her out for stealing his cloak material. But instead he just stalked off to the other side of the rock, obviously preparing himself.

 

He’d shed a lot of his layers but the black would still absorb heat as the sun rose. She could see he was already starting to sweat through his shirt, looking miserably uncomfortable. He also held his staff awkwardly, like he was struggling not to shift his grip to a more familiar one handed one. It was made from a scaffolding strut that she’d cut from the Falcon, about the same length as hers. She had wrapped fabric around it to create handholds but they were too close together for his reach. After a while the metal would begin to burn his fingers if he didn’t move them, but she supposed he could figure that one out on his own.

 

Surprising her, he took a step forward, swinging the staff around in a graceful arc, obviously testing it’s reach. His grip had changed already, becoming more fluid.

 

She felt a twinge of apprehension.

 

“No,” She waved a hand in front of her face “Mind powers.”

 

For some reason he looked positively offended at the idea.

 

“I won’t.”

 

She made a disbelieving little sound in her throat and a look of annoyance flashed across his face.

 

“What?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“You used them on me the other day, to  _ make _ me trust you.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

He frowned “I wanted you to trust me. It’s preferable to your current irrational hatred. But I never  _ forced _ you too. I never attempted to control you.”

 

It was a lie. It had to be. But it didn’t  _ feel _ like one somehow.

 

“You did something. I felt it.”

 

There was a ripple of  _ something _ … recognition maybe… in his eyes.

 

“There might be…” he started but then seemed to think better of it. Dismissed it with a little shake of his head.

 

She wanted to press, to ask what he had been about to say but he continued on,

 

“Shall we begin?”

 

There was something a little predatory about his stance now. As if he planned to eat her whole if he caught her. She felt a flicker of apprehension but stamped on it.

 

Taking a deep breath, she tried to still her mind like Master Luke had taught her, to empty herself of emotion. But the fear and the anger wouldn’t seem to go away, flickering around the edges, refusing to be calmed.

 

Maybe because last time they’d fought they had meant to kill each other. He might claim differently but she knew the truth.

 

She nodded, staff up to block his first blow. It was a testing strike, easily turned aside. No real strength behind it. That surprised her, she had been expecting him to come straight for her with everything he had, to try and take her out quickly.

 

“We should be using lightsabers. You are beyond this.”

 

“No.”

 

His second blow passed so close she could feel it ruffle her hair but it meant she could duck under his defenses, dance round him. Leave a short, sharp blow on his shoulder before skittering backwards out of his reach.

 

He rolled his shoulder, seeming to shrug off the blow with ease, advancing on her.

 

“I wanted to train you. I  _ want _ to train you properly.”

 

_ Why? _

 

She wanted to ask it but bit down the question. He was either trying to distract her or, more likely, baiting her, trying to make her ask so he could launch into another tirade about how she was ‘just like him’. And that was the last thing she wanted to hear right now.

 

Instead she stepped forward into his advance, swiping out at him with her staff, trying to catch him across the knuckles.

 

“Well, I don’t want you too. I don’t  _ need _ you.”

 

He dodged the attack, side-stepping then bringing his own staff up to deliver a glancing blow to her shoulder, the mirror of the one she’d just given him. Barely a brush but she could feel the power behind it, only managed to half-muffle her yelp of pain.

 

Her best advantage was that she was used to this terrain. Sand was treacherous, it would shift around under your feet. Fighting on it was a lot like fighting up to your knees in water. You didn’t have one enemy but two. All she had to do was lure him off the rocks and he would lose his footing. She began to edge backwards, keeping her eyes fixed on him.

 

“I’ll persuade you. We have all the time in the world, scavenger.”

 

For a second, the half smile made him look so much like his father it shocked her. He stepped back, staff held loosely in front of him. She used the reprieve to swipe hastily at her forehead, wiping off the sweat starting to bead there before it could run down into her eyes.

 

“And if I can’t persuade you,” he continued “I’ll force you. For your own sake.”

 

A small breathless laugh was startled from her. So soon after he’d claimed that he’d never, here he was saying that he would. His next strike came before the laughter had fully left her lips, a quick blow to the end of her staff. She let it roll off, using his own power to turn it into a spin, to bring her own staff down on his unprotected back with a crack.

 

“Force me?” She could hear the contempt in her own voice.

 

He spun around to face her again and the corner of his mouth flickered up, the tiniest hint of a smile. 

 

“Yes. Just because I didn’t before, doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s necessary. Don’t mistake it for weakness,” He didn’t even seem like he was paying much attention to where his hits went, trying more to trap her staff, trying to hold her still so she’d be forced to listen to him. “Luke Skywalker would train you to always do the right thing, to put others before yourself, to live by some ancient code that would deny you  _ everything _ . And I do mean everything, every emotion, every comfort. To hollow you out and make you a vessel for the Force rather than a person. To destroy you, as you are now.”

 

Her staff struck his side with a satisfyingly meaty thud. He grunted, taking a half step back, his step faltering for a split-second on the sand but he managed to regain his footing, much to her annoyance.

 

“Shut up and fight me!” She forced out through gritted teeth.

 

_ He wasn’t trying _ . The realisation stirred her anger. He didn’t consider her enough of a threat to even try and fight her, he was using this as some kind of training session where she would be forced to listen to him drone on and on.

 

“It’s an excellent way to live an empty life and then get yourself nobly killed for a good cause.” A trickle of blood started to drip down from his clenched fist, some unsanded shard on the staff obviously catching at his skin but he didn’t seem to feel it. Didn’t even seem to notice it, he was staring so intently at her.

 

“Better than for a bad one,” she replied, trying not to lose focus.

 

The swipe she took at his chest sent him reeling backwards, barely keeping his feet. And this time she didn’t give him the second he needed to recover, pushing forward lightning quick, locking their staffs together. If she could just prevent him from regaining his balance, tip him over backwards...

 

His eyes widened in surprise as she managed to push her advantage, pushing him back and back…

 

He braced his feet and it was like she’d hit a wall, no more give to him. Their staffs locked and suddenly she was staring up at him.

 

Close too his skin looked pink, irritated and sand-burned, freckles blooming in pale brown spoltches across his nose and cheeks. Its paleness and its delicateness weren’t made for this environment. 

 

“You think it’s that simple.” His voice was curiously flat. “Good versus bad. The Light and the Dark. You’re little more than an ignorant child, listening to  _ his  _ fairy stories.”

 

There was no way she could hold him in this lock for long. He was stronger than her. It was inescapable. But she had fought people stronger than her since she could first raise her hands to defend herself. You just had to make them underestimate you, distract them, then hit them fast and _ hard. _

 

“Well you’re nothing more than the First Order’s lapdog so maybe you should take some of your own advice”

 

She saw the fury welling up in his eyes and wondered a bit late if maybe that hadn’t been the best idea.

 

“I am—“

 

He struck at her quickly, more quickly than she had anticipated.

 

“—nobodies—“

 

Again, overhead swipe, she barely parried in time.

 

“—LAPDOG!”

 

He surged forward and she fell backwards, thumping down heavily on her backside, staring up at him.. Confronted by the sheer power of his anger for the first time since Starkiller base. 

 

The similarity to the last time they’d fought struck her hard. 

 

For one long moment after she’d burnt him, she’d felt good. Not just good. She’s felt righteous, she’d felt vindicated. She’d felt unstoppable.

 

In that moment, and perhaps only in that moment she could have killed him.

 

She tensed, ready to push herself to the side, to dodge whatever blow was coming.

 

But instead she could see him consciously pulling his anger back, returning it to whatever creaking box he kept it in within his mind. She imagined it bulging at the seams, hinges straining, barely able to contain the force of it. 

 

He hesitated then reached out a hand to her.

 

“Don’t believe what everybody tells you. People lie all the time, even if they don’t mean to. Don’t trust them.”

 

“Okay, I won’t.”

 

_ This is a terrible idea _ , she thought before swiftly striking out with her leg, catching him in the back of the knee. Tumbling him heavily to the ground, which he struck with a soft  _ ‘omph’ _

 

“I win.”

 

She smiled a little as his discomfort, not even bothering to hide it.  

 

And, for some reason, he smiled back.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

 

Rey lay out on the cold sand, looking up at the stars showing through the rents in the fast moving clouds above her as the dark faded and the light rose. The clouds were a novelty, even though they were high up, dissipating already as the sun started its climb so she watched them carefully, imagining them returning, bringing rain and relief with them. Still they kept fading as the sun started to edge its way over the horizon.  Somehow she always expected this time, this transition, to be grey and dull. But it was a beautiful clear blue that infused everything with a touch of magic.

 

It was cold, almost bitterly so, but worth it.

 

On Jakku, she’d  _ always _ risen before the sun. You had to get out early if you wanted to get the best salvage and, of course, it was the easiest part of the day to work in. It was part of her now, even on Ahch-Tu, even at the rebel base, she’d risen earlier than nearly everyone else.

 

Part of her had enjoyed it, particularly on the base. Prowling the nearly deserted rooms, no one jostling her aside in the corridors. Those who were about were foggy, still mostly asleep and easy to avoid.

 

The space had been better with fewer people, fewer stares and attempted conversations. Fewer disappointments when people realised she wasn’t quite the Jedi they wanted her to be. That she wasn’t Luke Skywalker.

 

There had been someone on the base--a man, a pilot she thought-- she’d overheard calling her ‘that angry, grasping little desert rat’ after she’d accidentally taken his magwrench and slipped it into her bag. While it had made her flush with anger, after she’d thought about it she couldn’t deny the truth of it. She flinched every time too many people were around her, especially those she didn’t know, becoming withdrawn and having to physically stop herself from snapping. It was too difficult, there were just so many of them. And she would take components no one was using, squirrel them away in her satchel, her room. And food, she would take that too.

 

Just in case.

 

But then she’d  _ always _ been angry, grasping, ashamed in a lot of ways, as long as she could remember. 

 

Jakku would do that to you. 

 

It was the kind of place that left a mark..

 

Sometimes she wondered if her parents  _ had _ returned for her would they have wanted the hardened, scared, angry girl they would have found there? 

 

She’d always thought they would come back for her. It was strange, she’d nearly forgotten how completely, how desperately she had believed that. Even after she’d gotten older, should have known better. If everything hadn’t happened...with BB-8 and Finn and the Resistance… would she still be there now? Scratching out an existence, letting her life slip through her fingers one day at a time.

 

Unknowingly she found herself reaching up to pet her own cheek lightly, soothingly rubbing her thumb across the curve of her jaw. A habit she thought she’d broken from childhood, when she’d used to press her small hand into her skin and pretend it was her mother, her father,  _ anyone _ . Brushing her skin and telling her that it would be alright, that everything would be alright. Press one palm into the other and pretend someone was there, holding her hand.  It had made her feel safe. 

 

Stupid really, a child’s game.

 

Clenching her fist, she pulled her hand away, digging it into the cold sand instead, the sharp grains digging their way beneath her fingernails.

 

She’d spent all of yesterday working on the speeder, until the light had given out. Cobbled together something that was almost a working engine. With another few tweaks, maybe a component or two changed and it would start she was sure of it. From there it was easy to throw on some kind of seat, a little protection for the inner workings, then she’d be in business.

 

Ren had helped.

 

It had been strange, to be calling out for parts and having him hand them to her, oddly docile. She’d kept readying herself to explain which one she meant but he’d handed them without comment, without the need for further prompting. It was strange to think he would know anything at all about mechanics. He didn’t look like the type that got his hands dirty, unless maybe it was with blood.

 

The fleeting thought that his father might have taught him had skittered across her mind before she’d dismissed it. Too painful to think about. She would have had to leave the room, put some space between them if she’d let herself dwell on it.

 

Still he had been helpful, the speeder had come along far more quickly than it would have done otherwise. It was because he was bored, that much was obvious. Constantly seeking her out for her company, as reluctant as she was to give it to him. His presence still filled her with unease. Though it no longer horrified her the way it once had. Maybe she was becoming used to it, used to  _ him _ . 

 

A disturbing thought, that anyone could get used to living with a monster.

 

When she’d gone yesterday afternoon to scavenge more parts from the Falcon, he’d predictably trailed along after her like a lurking black shadow. Helping her take down the drive units without comment, though he seemed more subdued than normal.

 

It was a beautiful old ship, once you really looked at it, underneath the wear and the dirt.  And it had been loved, truly loved. It was written into every careful repair and replaced part that kept it running long after it should have been resigned to the scrap heap.

 

“You’re upset.” His voice had startled her out of her thoughts “ About the Millennium Falcon. Don’t be.”

 

He’d stared very hard at the metal piece in his hand, turning it over and over, not looking at her. The oil had leaked out a little, staining his white skin to a murky grey.

 

“It’s not as if he built it from scratch. He won it in a card game.”

 

Then he’d been gone, abruptly disappearing off out of the gap in the side of the ship. Leaving her alone for the first time in days.

 

The little bit of information had struck her because she couldn’t help but wonder when his father had told him that. If they’d taken trips in the ship when he was a child, maybe his father had let him fly it, pudgy hands wrapped around the controls as Han’s guided them. Wonder if maybe deep down, there was some tiny sliver of that boy left who found taking this ship to pieces just as difficult as she did.

 

Thinking about it now gave her a strange, sharp pain in her chest. A pain that could too easily turn into sympathy if she let it.

 

She’d snuck out here before the sunrise to be alone for awhile. Left him sleeping peacefully, his back to her. It was difficult to always be around someone, particularly someone like him. Laying down on the cold sand had cleared her mind a little, the bite of it against her back allowing her to focus.

 

She been wanting to ask him what he’d meant about the visions, before. It had been days and he hadn’t brought up the subject again.  If he had them too, maybe he could help her figure them out. Maybe even figure out how to access the memories of her life before being abandoned on Jakku. But would that be too much like giving information to the enemy? Would it make her weak in front of him? 

 

If it meant allowing him back into her head she could never bring herself to do it.

 

Digging her fingers into the sand for a final time, she pushed herself into a sitting position moments before she heard the telltale creak of him pulling himself out of the hatch. He’d come looking for her, as she knew he would. Still she kept her back to him, staring at the golden light spilling over the horizon. 

  
The speeder would be finished today, she would make sure of it. It wouldn’t run well, or for long but it would be enough to find out if there was any help to be had on this planet.


	10. Chapter 10

It could hardly be called a speeder.

 

It was more like an engine with repulsorlifts bolted on the side and a seat somewhat precariously attached to the top. Well, two seats, he was still being insistent on coming with her. Still following her everywhere she went.

 

His newfound insistence on constantly being with her was grating. She was used to doing everything alone and having a continual shadow made her irritable.  It was as if he thought she would disappear into dunes if he let her out of his sight for very long. Maybe he thought she was secretly fixing up the Falcon, was preparing to leave him here. Well she couldn’t fault him for that, if she could have done she would.

 

She did feel sorry for him, a little. But it wasn’t the kind of sorry that made her want to help him, to be nice to him. It was the kind of sorry that made her feel itchy and agitated, like he was so pathetic she didn’t even want to look at him sometimes. 

 

But to think of him as pathetic was a mistake. 

 

He was dangerous. And she would have to remember that.

 

The beacon had been taken out of the Falcon, loaded onto the back and secured as well as they could manage with cables. There was always the possibility they’d find somewhere high enough to boost the signal. Anything to help it get off planet.

 

A small part of her also thought it might be better to have the beacon a little way from the shuttle anyway. So they would see any potential ‘rescuers’ before they saw them. She’d heard tales of traders who ‘scavenged’ people from crashes, sold them into slavery on backwater planets, to work in mines or worse. 

 

It couldn't be too far away though, they’d need to check it every day.

 

She clicked the switch, listening to the engine hum and whirr, the machine shakily lifting itself off the sand. It wasn’t as smooth as the one she’d built back on Jakku but for the material she’d had and the time it had taken she’d done a good job. A great job actually, she would have proudly taken this to Niima outpost, shown off her work to the other patrons.

 

There was a ugly clanking noise and suddenly the power died, the speeder falling back to the ground with a thud.

 

“What?” she muttered quietly to herself, sliding her hands across the engine as if she could somehow feel what was wrong.

 

It only took her a minute to realise the turbo-fusing had blown. An hour before she’d planned to leave and it had broken, snapped clean in two.

 

It was frustrating, she had to draw her anger back, force herself not to lash out at the speeder. It wasn’t the machines fault, it was  _ hers _ \-- she hadn’t tested the part properly, hadn’t noticed the hairline cracks running along the casing.

 

Stupid. Stupid and a basic mistake.

 

It would take her hours to find another one, get it cleaned up and fixed in place.

 

The worst part was, the superstitious part of her couldn’t help but feel it was some kind of bad omen. Something telling her that she would find nothing good out there in that desert. And the thoughts wouldn’t go away even after she told herself to stop being so ridiculous. But the longer it took her to remove the damaged turbo-fusing, the more oddly convinced she became that there was nothing out there, nothing but endless desert.

 

Her stomach lurched at the lonely image of her trapped here, on this desolate sandy planet, dying by degrees. So much like Jakku. She almost reached up and brushed her hand against her skin, the old habit of comforting herself coming back with ease.

 

But her constant shadow was hovering nearby so she clenched her hand by her side, keeping herself from reaching up. Tried to rub at the skin of her arm instead, a similar soothing gesture. It wasn’t quite the same.

 

Taking a deep breath Rey forced herself to her feet. This could be sorted out, she could fix this. There was another one in the Falcon, she’d seen it there before. It would take work but she could fix this.

 

“Turbo-fusing broke. We need another one.”

 

Without waiting for his response she dropped herself down into the Falcon’s interior, heading for the back room.

 

He followed, of course he did. She could sense him hovering behind her as she set to work prying up the floor panel, leaving a narrow dark gap just big enough for her to reach down through. The turbo-fusing was a little way down, but she could probably get hold of it from here. It would save her from having to worm her way through the narrow access panels in the dense, close heat and it would mean they wouldn’t lose so much time.

 

He cleared his throat behind her.

 

“You won’t be able to reach, I can--”

 

“I can reach!”

 

It felt like he was blaming her. Like he was rubbing her failure in her face. 

 

And she  _ could _ reach it.

 

She stretched a hand into the narrow space, fingertips brushing the turbo-fusing, moving it round so that it gradually loosened. The problem was the more it loosened the further it got away from her. Pushing harder, she stretched out her fingertips, trying to get a grip on the slippery metal surface. The skin of her shoulder began to chafe itself bloody against the metal, reddening under the pressure. It would be sore later but she would bear it. Sweat was beading in her hairline and she could feel it starting to drip down her neck. It was too close, too confined in this narrow space and the day was just getting hotter. Even if she got the part now they wouldn’t be able to leave until the sun starting to sink a little. They’d lost the best part of the day because she hadn’t thought to check the turbo-fusing.

 

A throb of guilt started up in her chest, pressing against her throat.

 

There was a hollow clank and suddenly the part was loose, heavy against her fingertips as she tried desperately tried to pull it back. But it was no good, it simply slid through her grasp, falling noisily down the duct below.

 

She wanted to scream or cry or hit something. Anger and despair rose up like a wave, washing over her, through her. Worse she could feel the surge of accusation rolling off of him, the overwhelmingly smug sense that he’d been right, that  _ he _ could have reached it without issue.

 

For a moment her anger flared but then it went out, suddenly, like a blown fuse.

 

She was tired. She was so _ tired  _ and frustrated and she just wanted someone-- Finn, her parents, even Master Luke--someone to just brush her shoulder or pat her head or hold her and let her know it would all work out. Even if it was a lie. She wanted someone to _ care _ enough to lie to her.

 

Rey swallowed down the feelings, turning to tell him that the part falling hadn’t been her fault but the look on his face bought her up short.

 

His eyes were unfocused, his face oddly softened in the dim light of the room.

 

Then suddenly he was reaching out, the movement so fast she didn’t even have time to flinch. Then his fingers cupped her cheek, warm and rough against her skin and he was sweeping his thumb-- once, twice--soothingly across her jaw. A light touch, tentative.The mirror of the gesture she used to comfort herself. 

 

She started, pushing violently backwards,  _ away,  _ smashing his hand to the side.

 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?”

 

Her heart was thundering against her ribs so hard it felt like it might burst.

 

He was staring at her, jaw clenched. The look on his face was angry but at the same time somehow almost frightened, defensive. Like a child that had been caught with a toy that wasn’t theirs.

 

“...you  _ wanted _ me to, you were practically shouting it!”

 

He gestured violently toward her head, bringing himself up short when she flinched.

 

“I didn’t, I _ don’t. _ ”`

 

It was like when he’d fed her the water. Part of her  _ did _ want it, part of her wanted it so badly it was almost painful. To grab his hand and press it back into her skin, to feel the warmth, the _ touch _ .

 

Anger flashed across his face, quick and ugly.

 

“Don’t  _ lie _ to me! It was there, I heard it!”

 

He was clenching his hand rhythmically, as if touching her had burnt him.

 

“Get away from me!” She snapped, pushing herself back into the corner.

 

The softer expression of earlier was gone, wiped away along with the anger of moments before. Now he’d schooled his face back into a blank mask of contempt. She could have reached out for his emotions but...she didn’t want too. She wanted to believe the mask, the softness was too difficult to cope with.

 

He pushed his way up and out of the Falcon, disappearing into the blazing heat.

 

She stared after him for a moment then turned back to the access tunnels under the floor. They looked dark and unwelcoming but she thought she could wriggle her way through, find the part. 

 

It took longer than she’d thought, it had managed to somehow get itself wedged in between the slats of the ventilation grate. Prying it out left her with aching hands and a sore back from being hunched over in the tiny space. But it was a welcome distraction from the fact it almost felt like she could still feel his touch lingering against her cheek.

 

His skin had been calloused, almost as work-roughened as her own. That had surprised her for some reason, she’d been expecting smoothness. Maybe because, before they’d been stranded, she had always seen him wearing gloves. But lightsaber training, Jedi training, would leave you with callouses, of course it would. Master Luke would have put him through the same thankless chores she had been through every day…

 

It was an odd thought.

 

She shook her head, like she could dislodge the memory of it. Better to focus on this, on what she was doing. Eventually the turbo-fusing came free, only slightly dented from its experience, giving her a momentary feeling of triumph.

 

This was still possible. She could still do this.

 

Fixing it in place didn’t take as long as she’d thought and before she knew it the speeder was up and running again, a steady buzz under her hands as if it was as impatient to get going as she was.

 

For a moment Rey turned back toward the command shuttle, expecting to see him there, watching her like he always was lately. But there was nothing but the endless stretch of sand off in both directions. For some reason she’d been expecting him to seek her out again after his initial rage wore off.

 

It was strange, his absence was like a unexpected weight on her. It must have been because he was deliberately avoiding her.

 

She checked the straps on the beacon one final time. Waited for a moment, next to the humming speeder. To see if he was going to come out. He would surely hear the engine even if he  _ hadn’ _ t been watching for her to reappear from the Falcon.

 

But there was nothing.

 

Rey felt that same odd lurch of abandonment she got everytime she thought of her family and hated,  _ hated _ that he could make her feel that way.

 

Fine. She was better off doing this alone anyway.

 

Determinedly she turned her back, hauling herself up into the seat, slipping her hands around the controls. The hum of the speeder calmed her a little. With one final guilty glance toward the command shuttle she eased the brakes off and sped out into the desert.

 

Once she got going she made sure to check behind her every ten minutes, keeping her bearings, keeping the sun in front of her and the shuttle behind. If she got lost out here there were no markers, nothing to get her back on the right track. On Jakku it had been pretty easy, the wrecks might have changed whenever there was a sandstorm but there were some constants, things too big to be changed by anything. Things that would set you back on the right course if you found yourself wandering.

 

After about thirty minutes of riding she began to notice something, a dim smudge on the horizon. She felt a leap of hope in her chest. It looked too big to be plants or a rock formation.

 

But when it got nearer the small pitiful dash of hope disappeared.

 

This was ancient, some kind of relay that must have been old before the Republic had fallen, battered and worn by the sandstorms that must’ve assaulted it over the years. Part of her wanted to open up the base, to go crawling through its insides and see if there was anything of use in there. But she stopped herself, this was old technology, nothing would be compatible with either the Falcon or the shuttle. And this wasn’t Jakku, she didn’t need to drag anything potentially useful back with her. There was no one out here to steal it.

 

Still it was  _ high _ .

 

It would be easy to free-climb it, she’d done it a hundred times before on Jakku. The beacon would definitely get a better signal from the top.

 

After a moment's hesitation she swung down off the speeder and set about strapping the beacon onto her back. It wasn’t heavy, it would alter her balance a little bit so she’d have to go slow but it wouldn’t make the climb anymore difficult.

 

Decision made Rey began to pull herself up the side of the relay, feeling for handholds. It _ was  _ easy, she’d been right, there were little outcroppings that comfortably took her weight and before she knew it the ground was falling away below her.

 

With it she tried to let her problems fall away, with every foothold and handhold, with every arm's length she found herself higher. _ Leave it all on the ground.  _ She took a deep breath, feeling how much thinner the air was here, tasting the sand on her tongue. 

 

And made a decision.

 

When this was over, she wasn’t going back to Ahch-Tu. She was going to go to D’Qar, the rebel base. To see Finn. Her training could wait. She  _ needed _ to see him again, needed it so badly it was a physical ache in her chest. The only real friend she had.

 

_ That’s not true _ , she chided herself, _ there’s Chewbacca and BB-8 _ . She wasn’t sure if she’d count Master Luke as a friend exactly, there was something so distant about him. And there were other people who were nice to her, General Organa and Finn’s friend Poe who was so friendly it made her feel uncomfortable a lot of the time.  _ Everybody _ liked him and sometimes she’d just used to watch him, trying to work out exactly how he did it. But she’d never managed to figure it out. 

 

She swung herself up onto a new ledge, reaching up for the next handhold.

 

_ Creeeeeaaaannnnnk. _

 

There was a ugly wrenching sound and she felt the strut beneath her feet start to give way.

 

_ Oh. _

 

_ So this is how it ends. _

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For one long moment she didn’t recognise the man leaning over her. He looked too young, too scared, eyes wide with fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my love must go to Snowfright, who as always gives me wonderful beta-ly advice!

There was a jolt in her stomach as the strut gave way entirely, pin-wheeling down the side of the relay. Rey’s grip on the shelf above her tightened, fingers digging hard into the metal, trying to pull herself up. But it was too narrow, her grip wasn’t strong enough, all she could do was maybe use it to swing herself across to the next ledge.

 

_ It’s too shaky, from here I can’t-- _

 

Pain shot through her hands, fingers cramping violently, starting to loosen their hold. She was suddenly, horribly aware of the space underneath her, the winds tugging at her legs, how far it was to the ground. 

 

_ The Force! _

 

Reaching out blindly for it she tried to fold it into herself, to use it somehow. But she’d never seen anyone do anything like this, never been taught--

 

Her fingers slipped and suddenly she was falling.

 

She panicked, pushing out wildly, lashing out with her powers as she fell, trying to do something,  _ anything. _

 

_ Push _ !

 

She jolted to a sudden halt, the air underneath her seeming to become solid, thick. But it was like the sinking sands on Jakku and she could feel herself begin to slowly drop through, still scrabbling for purchase. More than half-way down now but the drop was still too much.

 

She needed to get back down or get a hand-hold.  _ Now _ . Before she--

 

There was a flare of power inside her, sudden and fierce. 

 

And then it died.

 

Letting her drop the remaining ten feet to the ground.

 

The impact was hard, harder than she’d thought and the pain ripped through her. She felt the edges of the world dim and go grey around her. The beacon. It had been on her back and now the sharp shards of it dug brutally into her skin.  A scream tried to rip its way out of her throat but she bit it down, out of habit, swallowing the sound. There was no one out here to hear her anyway. She dimly thought that she should check if it was broken, before the darkness and the pain rose up, swallowing her whole.

 

\---

 

Just drifting in the dark was soothing. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, nothing seemed to be able to hurt her anymore. It wasn’t like she was asleep exactly more like… she’d stepped away from herself for a moment, into a place where nothing could touch her. Where nothing mattered. 

 

_ “Rey!” _

 

Someone was calling her name, the sound distant. Like when she dunked her head in the water trough to cool off and the sounds of Niima Outpost became muffled and indistinct. It was hard to concentrate on it, made her head hurt. Maybe it would be better to just ignore it and stay in the comforting blackness.

 

_ “Rey! Wake up!” _

 

Something pulsed through the darkness then, a vivid orange light streaking into the nothingness that surrounded her.  In some places it was darkened to a vicious blood red, in others it was so pale it was almost white. 

 

_ Like the sunrises on Jakku. _

 

She tried to reach out toward it but somehow she couldn’t, her arm didn’t seem to want to listen to her, heavy and listless.

 

One of the sparks brushed her and it  _ hurt.  _ The rest were rushing toward her now, as if called and the light was sinking into her bones, making her somehow aware that she had a body, that she existed outside of this place and that...

 

_ Everything _ hurt.

 

Her eyes snapped open. 

 

Almost immediately she slammed them shut again against painful, burning light of the sun. Searingly bright green flashes of pain smeared behind her eyelids, seeming to pulse in time to the dull thud of agony through her body.Then a shadow fell across her and she tentatively eased them open again.

 

For one long moment she didn’t recognise the man leaning over her. He looked too young, too scared, eyes wide with fear. Then it came to her--

 

_ Kylo Ren. _

 

She tried to make her mouth work, to say his name but it wouldn’t co-operate somehow. Her head hurt, a ringing rolling sort of pain that was difficult to ignore, it seemed to expand until she had to close her eyes again. 

 

Suddenly there was the sensation of moving, of being gathered up. She tried to protest but the flare of pain in her back closed her throat and stole her words. There was fabric against her cheek, finely woven, softer than she’d been expecting. Warm. But the warmth was him, not the fabric, of course. It had to be midday by now, it was suicidal to be out here, it was so hot--

 

They were at the speeder now, even though her eyes were closed she could still smell the oil and the grease, feel him shifting his hold on her awkwardly with one arm as he climbed up. Leaning her carefully back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to reach the controls then the clicks of the switches as he tried to find the right sequence to start it.  Swearing when he got it wrong twice, killing the engine both times. Behind her closed eyelids it was almost like she could see his anger rise, that same vicious red colour, mixed in with the muddy purple of his panic, his worry. Then, finally, the hum and the vibration of the engine whirring into life.  

 

Dimly she was aware of the wind moving around her as he drove, the relentless heat, the heavy frantic beat of his heart against her ear. He was afraid, she thought in a slightly incoherent and sleepy way, strangely afraid of losing her. It was falling off of him in heavy waves, the terror. She hadn’t thought him capable of real fear, not like this. 

 

Certainly not for her.

 

\--

 

She wasn’t entirely sure how they got back to the shuttle, time seemed to slip away from her, but the next thing she knew Ren was gently propping her up against the wall, the metal cold and hard against her bruised back.

 

He came back with the water bottle, pressed it against her parched lips.

 

Last time she’d told him to stop. This time she didn’t have the energy. Her mind seemed as if it were only partly her own, still drifting a little, catching only on strange things. So instead of fighting, she let him tilt her head and let the water soothe her sand-dry throat. It tasted more metallic than it had done, she dimly noted, she needed to make some kind of filter or it would become undrinkable.

 

Her eyes wandered to the tools still lying on the floor and then she remembered.

 

“The beacon?”

 

He stared at her blankly until she tried again, voice cracked and almost unrecognisable.

 

“The beacon? Is it broken?”

 

“I don’t  _ know. _ ”

 

His words were frustrated, the anger in them palpable. He was a mess, she noticed, lips cracked and bleeding, pale skin turned red, burnt and painful looking from the sun. Not the slight pink of his other sunburns but a true, angry blood red.  Already she could see it bubbling up into little blisters, remembered how much those had hurt her the one time she’d been stupid enough to get burnt back on Jakku.

 

He’d gone out, unprotected, into the midday sun to find her. It gave her strange throb of guilt.

 

“You fell on it. Let me look at your back.”

 

It was abrupt, almost angry the way he said it. Before she could gather up the will to protest he was pulling her forward, bunching her shirt up  toward her head. Her skin seemed to sting where the air touched it and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. It must be bad.

 

“You didn’t use the Force to save yourself.”

 

His voice was reproachful. As if she’d  _ chosen _ to let herself fall. She felt a tugging at her skin and a thin slice of pain as he pulled a fragment of the beacon free.

 

“I was out of practise.”

 

Shards of duraplastic and metal tinkled to the floor next to them.

 

“Then you should have been practising!”

 

She felt his hand tighten into a fist against the skin of her back, felt his frustration at her pulsing in his mind. But then he relaxed his fist, grabbing the next shard and pulling while she clamped her jaw shut, determined not to make any noise.

 

“I don’t understand why you needed to go out there if there was no one. Why didn’t you reach out with the Force, try and see if there was anyone else. It wouldn’t cover the whole planet but you could have an idea--”

 

“--why didn’t  _ you _ !” she exploded back, regretting a little as her pain peaked in response to the outburst. This wasn’t fair, her head hurt too much to argue with him properly.

 

“I presumed  _ you _ had.”

 

“You couldn’t have checked with me?  _ Asked _ me?”

 

She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead trying to will away the rolling pain still blooming there. At least the anger had made her feel more like herself, less like she’d drift away at any moment.

 

Water ran down her back, cold and unexpected. She gasped, trying to glare at him over her shoulder. Okay the cuts needed cleaning but he could have warned her.

 

“I apologise for assuming you had some basic modicum of common sense.” His voice was disdainful, it reminded her of the way he’d called her ‘scavenger’ back when he’d interrogated her. As if she were nothing, some small insect that had buzzed and burrowed its way into his space.

 

His fingers stilled on her back again, she could feel the thinned blood rolling down from the slashes in ticklish streams. “What were you even  _ training _ for if you don’t want to use your powers?” 

 

Using her powers meant opening herself up to him, to something like what had happened before when she’d taken his pain. She would rather never use her powers again than feel that connected to him against her will.

 

He stood up and moved round in front of her, watching her knowingly. His fingertips were cut and bloody from the shards, but he didn’t seemed to notice.

 

“You can’t avoid it. You can’t avoid  _ me _ . Not anymore.”

 

For a long moment he just stood there, staring down at her. She did her best to meet his gaze, to not flinch or look away, trying to figure out exactly what he meant.

 

“You don’t know what a Force bond is, do you?” His tone was almost surprised, like he’d only just come to that conclusion.

 

“No.”

 

The words seemed...ominous to her and she knew that whatever it was, she wouldn’t like it. She felt on edge, like she wanted to scream at him to be quiet. Like she didn’t want to hear it.

 

“I thought you might have. You weren’t using your powers, I thought you were trying to shut me out.”

 

“I was.”

 

“But you didn’t know that this wasn’t normal.”

 

He said it with an air of weary finality, pushing his hair back from his face in a little show of frustration “When you pushed me out of your head, forced you way into mine you...did something. Created a link. A strong link. I imagine it’s how you healed me without meaning too. It’s why it’s so  _ easy _ for us to sense each other.”

 

The idea of being linked to him was horrifying, the idea of this man being able to flit in and out of her mind without her permission. Abruptly she called to mind the shields she’d formed last time he’d entered her head, trying to slam them into place.

 

He looked at her with a slight flicker of amusement in his eyes, as if he knew what she was doing. How much of her mind could he read? Suddenly she felt like she was standing naked in front of him, defenseless in way she’d never ever been before. Even when he’d interrogated her she’d been able to fight, able to push him out but she didn’t know if that would work now.

 

“I wasn’t sure until...until the last few days,” he said.

 

She supposed that was why he had suddenly taken to following her around, trying to confirm this link, this bond between them.

 

“How do we make it stop?”

 

“We can’t. Not without one of us killing the other.”

 

She almost said something about not being against the idea but snapped her mouth shut at the last moment. Right now she was injured, he had the advantage.

 

“Time will weaken it. Distance. When we get off this planet, we can try our best to get rid of it. Until then we are stuck.”

 

He got up abruptly, turning his back on her, apparently done with this conversation. Which was fine by her.

 

She made herself close her eyes, trying to slip into the calm state Master Luke had taught her for meditation. If she had healed him, surely she could heal herself. 

 

\---

 

When she focused again he was standing by the open hatch, one hand resting against the door, eyes closed. She fought down the urge to reach out with her mind, to find out what he was doing through what he’d told her was their ‘force bond’. It would have been easy, easier than forcing her dry, cracking mouth open. But infinitely more dangerous.

 

Maybe each time she used it would make it stronger. And that was the last thing she wanted.

 

Master Luke would know what to do about it. She was sure of that. All she had to do was hold on till they got off this planet, avoid making things worse.

 

Ren shifted, attention seeming to return from wherever he’d sent it and she managed to force herself to speak.

 

“You looked didn’t you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

The defeated slump of his shoulders was enough, she didn’t really need to ask any more. They were the only people on this planet. She leant back against the cool metal of the wall, feeling the dulled ache of the cuts and bruises, and closed her eyes.

 

“Okay, we work on the shuttle then.”

 

She tried to inject confidence into her voice but it sounded as weary as she felt. The shuttle. 

 

Their last hope.


	12. Chapter 12

  
  


The sandstorm had hit not long before sunrise the day after he’d brought her back, confining them both to the dark of the command shuttle.

 

There was some kind of emergency lantern he’d dug out which cast a eerily pale glow over the room. Just enough to lend some depth to the shadows, not enough to really see by. There were ration bars for them to eat, they were rationing the water as the access to it was outside and the wind and the sand together would be strong enough to flay a man. But they had enough to get by, for now and they would deal with that problem when they came to it.

 

She realised she’d started to think of them as a team, a unit. Even if they were still enemies, maybe she had just accepted that this might be all it ever was, forever.

 

Just the two of them.

 

The air inside the room felt heavy somehow- thick and oppressive. Probably more so because she knew she couldn’t simply open the hatch, get away from him. They had nothing to do but sit, stare at each other, choke down the tasteless ration bars. Listen to the storm raging against the hull of the shuttle. It would’ve been better if she could have worked on the ship but nearly all the significant damage was on the outside and most of the tools she needed were in the Falcon anyway. So nothing to do, nothing to distract her. It made her long for her flight simulator program, long to lose herself in imaginary missions, in the complicated scenarios that tested her pilot skills. She tried running some in her head, imagining the dangers and the challenge but it wasn’t quite the same.

 

Still, anything to distract her from the turmoil of emotions seeping off of Kylo Ren.

 

She'd quickly realised she could sense his emotions, despite the walls she was trying to keep up between them. Like a background hum, white noise, she wouldn’t even notice them until they changed, until he became angry or despondent. Worse, they affected her own, she would feel irritated until he calmed down, snappish. Then she would suddenly feel sadness welling up in her chest, for no reason. 

 

A few days like this (she thought it was days but it was impossible to tell, the storm meant it was always night) and she had already started to go stir-crazy with the need to put some space between them. Maybe it  _ would _ be easier to open the hatch and just start walking. Just walk until the cold or the sand got too much for her and she could die where she fell. No need to worry about Kylo Ren, no need to feel so dirty about this ridiculous bond, no need to have to keep up the painful hope everyday that they might be rescued. 

 

There was a frightening hollowness growing inside her chest. Hopelessness had sapped her ability to feel like they would ever, ever leave this place. She wondered how much of this black despair was hers and how much was his.

 

Hated that thinking that made her feel bad for him.

 

She also wondered if maybe this new constant gnawing craving for touch came from him as well. Or maybe it was because before General Organa’s motherly hug and Finn’s affectionate touches she hadn’t even known what she was missing. But now she felt like she  _ needed _ it, desperately.

 

If Finn had been here...if Finn had been here he would have held her, like he did when he’d found her on Starkiller. Wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his head in her shoulder. Warm, solid, so reassuringly  _ Finn _ . And it would have made things alright somehow.

 

Instead there was only Kylo Ren, sitting opposite her, sending her waves upon waves of emotions she didn’t want. But the last time she’d felt like this he’d reached out to her, touched her face with a surprising tenderness. Was it so wrong to want that again?

She felt...raw. Scoured clean somehow. Like she might start crying at any moment and...she never cried if she could help it. It was a weakness, a waste.

 

“I’m cold.”

 

The words were small almost lost in the roar of the storm outside and she struggled to keep anything out of her voice he might read as affection. Anything he might read wrongly. She must have succeeded too well though because he simply remained where he was, staring at her blankly in the dim half-light.

 

Maker, this was so stupid. 

 

Abruptly she stood up, ignoring the twinge of pain in her back, and clumped her way over to the side of the command shuttle that had somehow become ‘his’, letting herself drop down beside him.

 

“I  _ said _ , I’m cold.”

 

His mouth worked as if there was something he wanted to say but he couldn’t quite figure out the words. Instead he stared down at the hand she had fastened on his arm as if it were something utterly alien.

 

It made her want to snatch it away, to retreat back to her own space. That was what she should do, what any  _ sane _ person would do. But...

 

His skin felt warm under her fingertips and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. Touching him felt somehow...right. She was terrified, horrified even but part of her needed this. Needed him, as awful as it was to contemplate.

 

She pulled at his arm, feeling him try to resist for a moment. Then he went still, so still she wasn’t sure if he was breathing anymore. Feeling his pulse hammering under the grip she had on his wrist. Then he seemed to give in. 

 

His arms wrapped tight around her, pulling her in, folding her into him. She shuddered, going slack under his grip. There, there was the comfort she’d been denying herself. His fingers swept across her back--once, twice-- a mimic of the soothing gesture he had copied before.

 

It felt like they were the last two people in the universe.

 

He smelt of old sweat, musty but not pungent, not as unpleasant as it might be. On Jakku she’d encountered many, many beings who had smelt worse after weeks in the desert. And he was heavy and warm against her. So warm. It was surprising, somehow she’d expected him to be cold. He had none of the give or softness of his mother, none of the all-engulfing manner of Finn.

 

Suddenly she was glad the light was so dim. This was somehow easier in the dark, easier to pretend that he was someone else, that  _ she _ was someone else. That this was just comfort from one person to another.

 

His hand brushed lightly over her hair, a hesitant touch. Different. Still comforting.

 

Then a sudden feeling, a want swept over her.

 

_ Kiss.  _

 

He wanted to kiss her. 

 

She could see it burning in his mind. The idea nearly made her shy away, pull back but she was too tired to fight anymore. She’d been kissed before after-all, once, by a trader's son when she was younger. He’d pushed her up against his ship's walls, pushed his dry and chapped lips against hers for a few seconds while gripping her arms. She’d allowed it, bewildered and all the while thinking that maybe he’d let her take a closer look at the ship’s engines now. It hadn’t felt like how she’d thought it would. Somehow she had the idea it would be soft and tingly, electrifying and it would…change something. Make the person mean something. But it had felt somehow less personal than hugging someone.

 

She’d realised it was a lie, like everything else.

 

There hadn’t been any kisses since. No real opportunity. She’d thought maybe there might be eventually with Finn but it seemed to have passed her by. 

 

Would letting him kiss her be wrong? Why did he even  _ want _ to? Maybe it would be like her first kiss...an exchange. She wanted him to keep holding her, he wanted to kiss her. One for the other, a transaction. Simple.

 

She heard the sound of his breath in the dark, heard it’s rhythm change, become a little harsher a little faster. 

 

Something inside her seemed to burst.

 

She reared up and kissed him with a bitter vengeance, the same way they fought. Vicious.

 

_ There _ were the tingles, the sparks she’d been expecting the first time, singeing her under the skin. A fierce, stinging rush of heat. What did it say about her that she was feeling them for her enemy? If she concentrated on the burn of his skin against hers, the pressure of his mouth, if she concentrated on the feelings rather than who he was--

 

He seemed to be trying to soften it, turn it into something sweeter and gentler.

 

_ No _ .

 

She bit down on his lip on instinct. A surprised, suspiciously sexual whimper was ripped from his throat. There was something slightly feverish about the way he was panting into her mouth.

 

He sounded...weak. Desperate. She’d made him that way and it gave her an odd surge of victory. 

 

_ Don’t think, just feel. _

 

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and she hated it.

 

“Rey, I—“

 

She cut him off before he could ask anything. Bad enough he had used her name.

 

“Shut up. Don’t talk. Don’t even look at me. Just--”

 

He kissed her again suddenly, before she had a chance to steel herself. He kissed her like she was his salvation, like she was water in the desert. With such aching hope, such loneliness suddenly she wanted to cry.

 

This was a mistake.

 

She ripped her mouth away, pushing him back more roughly than was necessary. That was wrong, too personal.

 

It  _ had _ meant something, she’d been wrong.

 

Her lips tasted of his blood, from the bite. She’d thought if she was using him, for comfort, for distraction, for pleasure, that if she tried to forget what he was then maybe it would be enough.

 

But she couldn’t do it.

 

“Go.”

 

“What, I—“

 

“I said GET OUT!”

 

She had never yelled at him like that before, the wisdom of it was questionable. He was as likely to strike her dead as acknowledge the request.

 

Rather than do either he sat back down on his haunches, watching her with the kind of intensity that stirred her anger.

 

“I said  _ get out _ .”

 

“There’s a sandstorm blowing out there, forgive me if I feel ill-inclined to go to my death at your request.”

 

“A pity.” The words were venomous and she was glad. Let him hear how much she still hated him, it would be better than… the alternative.

 

She wanted to take it back. But she couldn’t.

 

Nothing between them was going to be the same, she’d erased that distance in a moment of weakness. And she couldn’t even claim she hadn’t wanted to because he was in her head, he would _ know _ the lie before she even said it.

 

Nothing  _ could _ ever be the same.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am....SO SORRY! Real life (my Masters thesis) and then writers block ate me. But I am here, I'm returned! And I'll try and update more frequently now guys I promise. Your reviews give me life and keep me working on this despite everything!! <3
> 
> As always this chapter is dedicated to my beta and partner in crime Snowfright, because she's just plain awesome!

  
  


The air against her skin felt so good after so long cooped up in the dank blackness of the shuttle. Two days, but it had seemed like a lifetime, an  _ eternity _ . Rey shut her eyes and drew a deep breath. Even the dusty flat smell of the sand was welcome.

 

_ He _ hadn’t followed her out.

 

She cast a sharp look back at the dark entrance to the shelter, hoping that he would just remain inside, leave her alone for once. He hadn’t said anything to her since...the other night. Had just sat there, a silent unmoving figure in the darkness. He was shielding his feelings from her now as well and he was obviously better at it than she was, because only the faintest flickers were getting through, little sparks of emotion that occasionally tickled at the back of her head.

 

It wasn’t as if she could avoid him forever, she would have to face him eventually. There was nowhere to hide here. Nothing but barren empty wasteland stretching in every direction.

 

_ I’ll deal with it later. _

 

Maybe by then she’d have even the faintest clue of what to do or say.

 

Determinedly putting it from her mind, she moved to grab a loose section of the shuttles plating and began using it to shovel away the sand that had drifted against the sides. She needed to be able to get to the inner workings, to evaluate how badly damaged everything was. The hull looked pretty well intact but everything from the console to the wiring was destroyed inside. This was going to be a huge job.

 

But the shuttle  _ had  _ to be fixable. There was no choice.

 

It was their only hope. 

 

Sweat was already starting to bead and drip from her hairline. She had been hopeful that the sandstorm would blow away a little of the oppressive heat but no such luck. If anything it felt worse,  _ heavier _ somehow. Thick in a way the air on Jakku had never been.

 

Her magwrench made quick work of loosening the joins but it was too bulky to pry the panels apart. Instead she had to slip her fingertips inside, yanking up, trying to prise it back. The metal burnt against her skin as she pried away the outer casing, searing little stripes of agony into her fingers. But she needed this open, and her fingers would heal.

 

“You hurt yourself.”

 

His voice shocked her so much she nearly dropped the panel. It was the first words he’d said to her in days. Steeling herself she pulled her hands free, suppressing the flash of resentment at the interruption. The casing would settle down, she would have to start from scratch with moving it again. 

 

She looked up at him, hands on her hips, determined not to be cowed.

 

There was a wariness to him that hadn’t been there before. Like he was expecting her to lash out at him at any moment. 

 

Now he was out in the sun again she could also see that his skin was still ruined, still blistered and red, weeping in places. And now he had a swollen lip to go with it, two perfect deep red imprints of her teeth marked out in his flesh.

 

Heat rushed to her face and she looked abruptly away, back at the shuttle.

 

“I couldn’t get enough leverage with my tools, I had to use my hands--”

 

“--and you couldn’t take a moment to get something to protect yourself with. Because we’re so pushed for time,  _ obviously _ .”

 

Her fists tightened. She didn’t want to look at him again, felt oddly like he was flaunting his injuries, daring her to look at him. To look at how he’d ruined himself for her. She had the sudden odd, unsettling feeling that he’d destroy himself for her if she asked.  Really, truly destroy himself.

 

_ Maybe I should ask. Do the universe a favour. _

 

“We are,  _ actually _ . I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we don’t exactly have unlimited rations.”

“We have enough.”

 

_ Enough for what? _ she thought bitterly. They were counting their supplies in terms of weeks, days not months anymore.

 

“Still. I want to get off this planet as quickly as possible and you’re….distracting me. So can you please just  _ go away _ and stop trying to tell me how to do my work?”

 

“Why do you persist in being so stubborn?”

 

He made an impatient sound and flung one of his hands out, fingers splayed. The whole casing buckled, ripping itself free with ease and flying twelve feet into the dunes. 

 

“You--you IDIOT!”

 

He looked taken aback as she whirled on him, grabbing his hand and forcing it down. 

 

“I needed that casing intact! If the ion engines aren’t shielded they’ll never withstand the pressure of the atmosphere!”

 

Whirling around she stormed over to where it had landed, dragging him behind her. If this was unfixable, he was damned well going to _ see _ , he was going to acknowledge that  _ he _ was the one who had damaged their chances of getting off of this death trap planet in one piece.  

 

The panel had landed wrong-side up in a sand dune, dented and warped but there were no rips that she could see, and it wasn’t twisted. She could fix this, hammer it back into shape. But it would take more time and she’d meant it when she’d said they were running short of it.

 

She’d been trying to be  _ careful _ . If she’d learnt one thing from being a scavenger it was that rushing in there full power often did more harm than good. You didn’t use a vibro-blade when a microcutter would do.

 

That was what bothered her sometimes about these powers they had, there was always the temptation to use them when they weren’t needed. To take the easy way out without really thinking. Master Luke said that was what led to the dark side, why she had to learn restraint, to learn  _ when _ to use them but...

 

Sometimes she wondered if the Force somehow ate away at what truly made them human.

 

She turned back to Ren, scowling, ready to berate him.

 

The words died in her throat.

 

He was staring at her in a strange, appraising manner that she didn’t like. Like he was Unkar Plutt, trying to decide how many portions to give her for what she’d scavenged.

 

Except this time  _ she _ was the salvage. 

 

She suddenly became intensely aware of the fact she was still clutching his wrist, fingers barely long enough to wrap around it. Abruptly she dropped it but the damage had already been done. That hungry look in his eyes didn’t seem like it was going anywhere

 

What she knew about the subject of...men and women came mostly from Niima Outpost gossip. And she wasn’t sure how much of it was applicable to humans. She thought she had the basic idea of what went where and how but there had been no one to ask, no one close enough to confide in.

It was a bit like the bleeding. When  _ that _ had happened the first time, she’d thought she was going to die. She’d soaked up the blood with rags and laid down in her bunk, dizzy and wracked with pain, waiting. Waiting for it to stop or waiting for herself to slip away into darkness. What else could she do? There were no healers at the Outpost then, and those in the villages were too far to walk on such shaky legs, even if they would help her for no payment. When it had gone away she’d assumed she’d healed from whatever it was. And when it came back again months later once again she’d waited-- recover or die.

 

Eventually she had realised it wasn’t a wound, not like the other ones she got. A few subtle enquires at the Outpost had left her with the idea it happened to other people too.

 

On the Resistance base they’d given her some kind of shot that stopped the bleeding, which she was grateful for. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to...ask questions. They hadn’t seemed concerned about it though so maybe it was normal after-all.

 

Like maybe this tug in her stomach was normal, like that look in his eyes giving her the overwhelming urge to just stalk over to him and yank his mouth back to hers. Maybe it was like the Happabores, maybe she’d finally gone into whatever the human version of a mating cycle was. 

 

Maybe she just had to wait it out, maybe it would just go away.

 

Too many maybes.

 

“Just….go away. I’ve got too much work to do to deal with  _ you _ right now.”

 

For a long moment he was silent, staring at her with that uncomfortable intensity.

 

“You don’t  _ get _ to act like this.” His voice was dangerous, seething with barely restrained emotion.

 

She grit her teeth, not looking at him, not answering him. Letting the silence hang between them.

 

“You kissed me.” His tone was so flatly accusatory that she looked up, startled. 

 

“You wanted me to!”

 

It was a weak excuse, she knew that even as it left her mouth. His eyes narrowed, lip curling slightly.

 

“ _ Yes _ , and I’ve wanted a great many other things from you before, none of which you’ve given into. Yet... _ that _ was the one request you choose to acknowledge?”

 

His eyes looked...wet, haunted and red rimmed. It gave her an odd hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

 

“It wasn’t motivated by any of the softer feelings, that much is evident,” he continued “You wanted to  _ use me _ for your own gratification then discard me.”

 

“You  _ wanted _ me to.” She repeated the words slowly this time, testing out the way they felt on her tongue. Replaying the odd sense of... _ surrender _ she’d felt from him last night.

 

“Yes.”

 

A short, begrudging admission.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I want you. I don’t know  _ why _ ,” The words were petulant, childish and there was something heavy, moody settling behind his eyes “Maybe...maybe it’s because we know each other, in our blood, in our bones. Better than anyone else will ever know either of us.”

 

For one heartbeat, two, she let herself believe it. That they could be anything other than enemies.

 

But it would be madness, to feel sorry for this monster.

 

Suddenly he was closer, almost as close as he’d been a few nights before. Close enough she could have reached out and touched him. 

“I can give you what you want.  _ Anything _ .”

 

She laughed, startled. A flash of the things she wanted flickered through her head--  _ love, family, belonging _ . Things he could never give her.

 

He stood silent for a long moment, long enough that she became wary. His eyes were unfocused and it was as if he were looking away inside himself.

 

“Here.”

 

There was the faintest touch of the back of his fingers against her cheek, the lightest caress. Like the way you’d stroke an animal that you were afraid might bite.

 

His intent sliced into her, clear and sharp. Reflexively she tried to push the invasion away, to  _ fight  _ it but he brushed her resistance away easily. Because she’d been fighting it wrong... he wasn’t pushing into her mind, he was opening his own, drawing her in. 

 

Things rushed toward her, so quickly she almost couldn’t keep up.

 

He was young...or was it that she was young? The thoughts were so muddled, she didn’t know where she began. Running through a home with bare feet, almost sliding against the slick floors, the giddy thrill of almost falling. A woman’s voice, concerned, calling out that they should slow down. Then the scene shifted and they were outside, sweet fruit was bursting on her lips, wet and grainy and  _ sweet _ . Love, love, so much love.They _ loved  _ him. Fierce, unconditional but somehow not enough, but she didn’t want to see that part and he steered her away, to jumping in the lakes, the sharp sudden rush of cold water, so sharp it took his/her breath away, forcing it from their lungs in a sudden whoosh of air that sent bubbles spiralling to the surface. Then his father’s arms around them, lifting them high into the sunlight. And everything was fine, good.  

 

This was the best day he had.

 

And she was losing herself in it, losing the distinction between her and between him, until they became something connected.

 

_ No! _

 

She grit her teeth, a shudder passing through her so violent it was almost a spasm. The world solidified around her again, the heat hitting her like a physical blow. Her heart felt like it was thundering dangerously hard in her chest.

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ your memories. I don’t want the things you’ve thrown away!”

 

What she wanted was her  _ own  _ memories, wanted to dig them up from wherever they’d been buried. Wanted to remember her mother, her father, her life before Jakku. Even if they were bad,  even if they were dark. They were  _ hers _ .

 

His hand shot out, gripping her arm so tightly it was almost painful. Stilling her, preventing her flight before she could even begin.

 

“Then just  _ tell  _ me. Tell me what you want!”

 

His eyes were wide, almost child-like, wracked with indecision and vulnerability. If she didn’t know him, if she didn’t know what he  _ was _ , her heart would have gone out to him.

 

_ My memories. I could ask, he would find them if I let him. He could find them. _

 

But it wasn’t worth the price. 

 

She shook him off violently, taking two steps away, breathing hard and feeling the tears running down her face unchecked. A weakness. He should never have been allowed to see her cry.

 

“You killed your father, you--you tried to kill  _ Finn _ . I don’t want  _ anything _ from you!” Her voice was tear-choked and enraged.

 

He moved even closer, looming above her until she could hardly bear it. Part of her still wanted to touch him, even now. Part of her want to finish this by grabbing a handful of his hair and pressing her lips to his and proving to herself he was still human. 

 

“You need to stop now. Stop  _ lying _ .” His voice was soft but verging, trembling on the edge of anger. As if he would explode into rage at any moment.

 

“I’m not the one who’s lying to myself,  _ Ben Solo _ .” Steeling herself, she stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated. Meeting his eyes even as she tried to blink the tears away from hers. “And I will never, _ ever _ touch you again. Is that clear?”

 

His fists clenched, entire body shaking under the weight of his repressed anger.

 

“How quickly you forget you were the one to come to me. All but screaming for me to touch you. You were the one who pushed closer when I  _ tried  _ to pull away.  _ You kissed  _ **_me_ ** ! So you can lie to yourself all you want but we both know this is  _ your  _ doing. And I won’t  _ let _ you take it away. Not now.”

 

This time he didn’t leave, didn’t back away to give her space. This time he stared down at her with a kind of all-consuming determination that chilled her to the bone.

 

This time she was the one turning, the one running toward the slight shelter of the Falcon. She needed to be away, far away, further than this.

  
What had she done?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's my birthday, you all get a gift ;)
> 
> All my thanks to the glorious Snowsei as always ;)

Their pile of ration bars looked depressingly small now. 

 

Half of the ones she’d lugged over from the Falcon had dissolved into grey crumbling powder anyway, inedible to anyone who wasn’t desperate.  She still licked a finger and stuck it into the pile of powder, sensing rather than seeing Kylo Ren’s wince as she jammed it back in her mouth. Let him be all uptight about it, give it a couple of days he’d be doing it too. 

 

It was obvious he’d never known real hunger in his life, not the deep gnawing all-consuming kind anyway.

 

At half rations they would just about last out the week. That was all. 

 

Then her energy would begin to flag, the stomach pains would come. It would get to a point where the weakness would overwhelm her and she’d be able to do nothing but lie in a corner, wracked by the hunger cramps.

 

Her time was quickly becoming limited.

 

A few days ago she’d stopped trying to fix whatever was making the water filmy and metallic. It didn’t seem to be poisoning them so it would have to do, trying to fix the engines and the control panel was taking all her energy.

 

That and avoiding Kylo Ren.

 

At least the urgency of the repairs gave her an excuse to be around him as little as possible. She’d even taken to bundling herself up with the remnants of his cloak and working after sunset until the cold made her fingers too numb to hold the tools. And then she was up before the sun, bundled up the same way, working again. He was still watching her, wary and resentful, but he hadn’t tried to touch her again yet. It seemed even someone as thick-headed as he was realised that them getting off this planet took precedence over whatever feelings he  _ thought  _ he had. 

 

The problem was...she could still feel them.

 

The impatience, the tension, the odd little flares of  _ want _ . He was broadcasting them like a faulty transmitter, making her skin feel static-y and strange. Letting her know he was just waiting for a chance, a moment of weakness on her part.

 

Part of her thought he was projecting it on purpose, trying to make her kiss him again.

 

She grit her teeth and picked up the sling she’d fashioned to carry her tools about in, hauling it over her shoulder. Trying not to feel the burn of his eyes on her.

 

_ I won’t let you take it away. Not now _

The words echoed through her head as loudly as if he’d just spoken them and she looked up, startled. But no, he was still sitting over the other side of the room, trying--and failing it looked like--to put one of the navigational circuit boards back together. As if he’d never been looking at her at all, as if she’d been imagining it.

 

It was too hot to go outside now really, the sun hadn’t dropped enough but the impatience was crawling over her skin. She hauled her makeshift cloak over her, at least it would be some protection against the sun.

 

He jerked to his feet, dropping the circuit board, moving like he was going to stop her leaving.

That was something else she’d noticed these past few weeks. He wasn’t graceful when he wasn’t fighting, he was stompy and abrupt. Ill at ease in his own body.

 

“I’m going out to work on the engines.”

 

She could hear the frisson of hostility in her own voice, feel the magwrench digging into her hand where she was gripping it so tightly. But she wasn’t going to let him drive her away from what might possibly be their only chance to get out of here in one piece.

 

“Wait.”

 

His words were soft but commanding, brokering no argument. To her endless annoyance she found herself stopping, turning back to face him.

 

“I just wanted you to know that--” He paused, mouth open like he wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. “--that I saw this.” The words sounded oddly choked, as if he were forcing them out “A long time ago, as a child. The ship, the desert...a woman standing in front of me staring out at the horizon. And I didn’t know what it meant.”

 

So this was what he’d meant before...about the visions.

 

“But I knew when I saw you....that it was  _ you _ . And I thought you might have seen it too. That it might be connected to your junkyard desert of a planet.”

 

Her own flashed through her mind-- the way she’d seen her own half-remembered abandonment, the man in front of her standing in the rain, saber drawn. The monster in the snow.

 

But not this, never anything like this. 

 

He’d stopped looking at her again, eyes drifting away to things only he could see.

 

“But maybe what I was seeing was my own death.”

 

The silence stretched between them for a long moment, heavy and cloying, until she found her voice.

 

“Don’t be so morbid.”

 

It was written on his face, that he’d given up, that he’d accepted their death as inevitable. But then... part of her believed it too, wholly and completely. 

 

They would die here.

 

She grit her teeth, trying to push away the hopelessness.

 

“The chances of us getting out of this alive are becoming smaller by the hour and--” His mouth crumpled, as if he were having difficulty getting the words out “--I want to help you.”

 

“Help me how?”

 

“Your memories. You wanted your own memories. I felt it when I offered you...”

 

The words sounded oddly begrudging and strangely that was what made her believe in them. Maybe… maybe if she trusted herself enough to steer him, keep him away from the parts she didn’t want him to see…

 

And it was her memories, her  _ family _ . The ones who had abandoned her. An old scar, deeply buried and locked away. But not so deep that she couldn’t still feel it.

 

After all this could be her last chance to know. 

 

Curiosity and fear warred inside her for a long moment. 

 

But eventually the curiosity won.

 

She nodded, once, short and sharp.

 

He leant down toward her, left hand braced against his thigh, right hand stretching out toward her face. She could feel her pulse start hammering in her neck, at having him this close. The closest he’d been since…

 

Well, since that night.

 

This near she noticed that his sunburn was healing, leaving a riot of speckled brown skin in its wake. Before his face had been dotted with one or two here and there, but now the freckles spilt across the bridge of his nose, down his cheeks, scattered across his forehead.

 

It made him look younger somehow. More open.

 

His fingers hovered over her as they’d done before, in the interrogation room. Except this time he let them sink lower, brush against the skin of her cheek. A tender gesture that she had to steel herself not to instinctively shy away from. Their warmth seemed to sink into her skin, heating her cheeks, running down her neck. 

 

It had felt invasive before, like a violation but this time it was… different. 

 

A shiver crawled slowly up her spine.

 

Maybe… maybe it was because she was bringing him in, not fighting him, not pushing him out. Guiding him through the force bond. Maybe it was simply because he wasn’t looming over her while she was in shackles. 

 

She could feel his surprise at her acceptance, his almost pathetic gratitude for it. Their breath slowed, synchronising as her eyes slid shut. It felt...strange, intimate in a way the other time hadn’t.

 

There was a flutter of panic, sharp in her chest. 

 

_ Idiot, you’ve let him in, you’ll bind him closer, you’ll never get him out of your head now… _

 

_ \--be  _ **_quiet_ ** _ , I need to concentrate-- _

 

His voice was so close, so clear that she almost jumped. It was as if he’d leant forward to breathe the words directly in her ear. She almost imagined she could feel his breath stir her hair, whisper along her skin. But when she let her eyes flicker open he was still there an arms length away, face tense with concentration.

 

Pain flared sharply behind her eyes, throbbing and relentless. Dark figures rose up in front of her suddenly, blurry and indistinct. 

 

She gave a cry of surprise and his hands dropped to grip her arms, holding her steady as the fragments flashed by too fast for her to understand. Snatches of voices flared then died before she could make sense of them. His head lifted toward her, lips parted as if he was going to say something. His eyes were still closed but she could see his eyelids flickering.

 

“I know… I know who they were.”

 

The black figures that flashed in front of her vision were still blurred, still distant for her but his eyes had snapped open, widened, obviously seeing things that she didn’t. Distant things, locked deep beneath the pain and the scarring. For her own protection.

 

“They were  _ Sith _ .”

 

He breathed the words like they were somehow sacred.

 

“ _ No _ .”

 

But it was true, even as he said it the memories fell into place, the brush of dark material against her skin, the glow of the weapons. Her father...her father had been weaker, he could barely make things move, it was more a flickering of the Force. But her mother had been strong. Young, only a few years older than she was now but  _ so strong _ . The strongest since…

 

_ Luke Skywalker. _

 

Ren’s arms were around her, trapping her, holding her still. She struggled trying to throw off his grip.

 

“He killed them? Master Luke…”

 

Master Luke who had been everything to her, every hope, who she had put her entire faith in, had been responsible for the deaths of her parents.

 

For a moment she wondered if he’d planted the images somehow, made her see what he wanted her to see. To make her distrust Master Luke. 

 

But...would he even be able to lie to her now, when she could feel his every emotion rippling just beneath the surface.

 

“Is what he did to them any different to what you would do to me, given half a chance?” His voice took on a soft mocking edge “Remember, you are on the side of the _ light _ …”

 

She tried to shy away, to rear away from him but he tightened his grip, holding her in place.

 

“...and the light abhors the darkness, always tries to destroy it.”

 

Her shove sent him stumbling backwards, his back connecting sharply with the hull as she snarled,

 

“This isn’t about  _ you _ ! Not everything is always about _ you _ !”

 

The anger flared, bitter, painful….and died. Leaving her tired, aching, hungry. 

 

“Luke Skywalker… he talked about it once, he was remorseful. He didn’t kill them, deliberately anyway.” He sounded tired as well, as if that had been the last piece of fight left in him  “They went into an asteroid field to try and lose him. Skywalker wanted to… change them, make them see the path. Not kill them.”

 

“That doesn’t change what happened!”

 

There was a low throbbing sound echoing off the walls of the ship, turning in on itself, making the pain in her head worse. For a moment she wondered if she was doing it, if it was somehow related to the anger that had been kindling inside her. But that was gone now and the sound was still becoming louder.

 

“And if they hadn’t come to the light. If they’d chosen to remain Sith?” She could hear the shake in her own voice, wasn’t sure if it was anger or some other more complex emotion.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

The sound was deafening now, booming in the small space, becoming a strange roar, so foreign in this place that it took her a long second to place it.

 

Engines.

 

A ship’s engines.

  
A  _ Ship _ .


End file.
